


Blind Man's Bluff

by tiggeryumyum



Series: HQ ABO [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Omega Kageyama Tobio, Omega Oikawa Tooru, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Still underage though, Very Very Slow Burn, like the kageyama relationship stuff is very slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:04:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 84,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: Omegas Oikawa and Kageyama end up forming a reluctant bond after surviving a traumatic experience together. Alpha Iwaizumi tries to keep up.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags!!! All rape is in chapter 2 though. Blue language from some very rude alphas.

Oikawa is waiting five more minutes, and then he's going inside.

It's early either way, though, and Oikawa knows it won't be crowded. The Osaka Auditorium is huge, and even with multiple prefectures hosting their preliminaries here, he could easily wait until the very last second to stroll in and still find a good seat, but... 

He frowns at his phone, telling himself he's only watching the time, but truthfully, is hoping for a text.

He knows there's not going to be a text.

~

" _Ninety-seven unread messages?!_ Thirty-eight missed calls??"

"He's got two thousand unread emails…"

"Iwaizumi do you ever use this thing? Or just carry it around??"

Iwaizumi grabs his phone from his shell-shocked teammates, and picks one of them – of course Oikawa – to smack in retribution.

"Ow, Iwa-chan!!" Oikawa whines, rubbing the back of his head. "I wasn't saying anything!" 

"And I bet my phone just jumped out of the gym bag by itself," Iwaizumi says. 

Oikawa laughs as he shrugs, caught.

"Seriously though," Hanamaki says, tone genuinely troubled. "You need to update your apps. Seriously."

Iwaizumi makes a vaguely affirmative grunt, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder. He's not going to be updating his apps.

"No wonder you never respond to any of my messages," Matsukawa says.

"Iwa-chan doesn't even answer messages from his grandmother," Oikawa says, and the rest of the team stares in disbelief. 

Iwaizumi pinches Oikawa's ear, yanking once in a surprisingly gentle warning to shut up ( _"Ah, sorry, sorry!"_ ). It's true, though, Oikawa was there when Iwaizumi's mother scolded him for not checking his phone often enough, threatening to take it away.

It's not something that particularly bothers Oikawa though, he rarely needs to text Iwaizumi, because they see each other very nearly every day. Part of Oikawa knows it won't always been like this, they won't always been in highschool, in the same club, with the same friends, but it's too distant of a concept to really concern himself with for now. 

~

 **Me:**  
did u catch rikkyo v Hosei???  
Aug 18

 **Me:**  
hey  
Aug 23

 **Me:**  
ffffoooooouuuuuuurrrrrrrr in the mornnnnnninggggg practice (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞  
Sept 1

 **Me:**  
only omega on the court  
again  
(。____。)  
Sept 2

 **Me** :  
You there?  
Sept 9

 **Me:**  
it's you!!!  
Attached: grumpo-doggo.jpeg  
Sept 11

 **Me:**  
no one agrees but  
aoyama has a good chance at championships in spring even after that game  
ito is still strong  
their receives are still strong!!!  
no one appreciates my genius!!!!  
◞‸◟  
Sept 15

 **Me:**  
ningyo. live birth or egg layers?  
Sept 17

**Me:**  
aoba johsais playing in osaka  
10/5  
u going? 

**Iwa-chan:**  
Yeah I wouldn't miss it 

**Me:**  
ヽ(°〇°)ﾉ !!!!! 

**Iwa-chan:**  
What 

**Me:**  
A sign of life!!!?  
Meet up at the game?  
Sept 20

 **Me:**  
IWAIZUMI HAJIME HAVE U DIED  
Sept 25

 **Iwa-chan**  
Yeah lets meet up  
Sept 28

Oikawa glowers down at his phone, refusing to send yet another ignored text. Iwaizumi should see the rest of Oikawa's inbox! It's full of people _happy for the chance_ to respond to his messages. In fact, he could send a text to just about any of them right now and get a reply within seconds, and he has a hard time coming up with a reason why he should waste one on Iwaizumi, _again_! 

… Until he's got the text field open and he's typing.

**Me:**  
going to get a seat  
in gym #4 

Oikawa finds gym 4, sits down in the front row, crosses his arms, and refuses to check his phone again.

Iwaizumi is a very _out-of-sight, out-of-mind_ style friend. He easily reignites old relationships as though no time has passed once he finally meets up with them again, but does very little to maintain it in the meantime, and is libel to pick up and leave _whenever_ with just as much fanfare. 

Oikawa has always known this, he's just never been out of Iwaizumi's sight until now, and sure enough, ten minutes into the match, Oikawa smells sage – a woody, earthy, faintly smoky scent, like a campfire, and Iwaizumi appears. Sitting down next to him without a word, as though it's only been a few hours since they last saw each other, not a full two months.

They watch the game in silence. It's 19-15, Aoba Joshai and Johzenji. 

"Surprised they didn't go with Yahaba," is the first thing Iwaizumi says. "Or at least Watari."

"Neither of them have Kunimi's game sense," Oikawa says, watching Kunimi send a toss to Kindaichi. "Probably would've been setting since junior high if it wasn't for Tobio."

"And his lazy ass," Iwaizumi says.

"Mm," Oikawa agrees, leaning forward onto his knees to watch the new chemistry of Aoba Johsai, post Oikawa, post Iwaizumi. He's not sure what happened that made the coach pick Kunimi over Yahaba, but the decision trickled down to the team's new ace: Kindaichi, and it shows in his spikes, which have more power and accuracy than they did last year, and the laziness definitely seems to have been beaten out of Kunimi, likely not by choice. He smirks. Poor, soft Kunimi, a creature of comfort turned into a work horse. 

"They're doing well," Iwaizumi says, sounding relieved.

"You just assumed it'd turn into a dumpster fire without us," Oikawa says. Iwaizumi frowns at him. Oikawa shrugs, leaning back. The team is doing fine. They'll likely win this match. But Oikawa has always been able to spot weakness, pinpoint it with ruthless accuracy, and he's not blinded by sentimentality. They are strong, solid, but their plays are safe. Textbook. Well executed, but timid – except of course for Mad Dog-chan, who still leaves skidmarks all over the court – there's no innovative spark.

This is not a team that would make it to nationals. But Iwaizumi clearly doesn't want to have that discussion and Oikawa would like to keep the conversation pleasant. 

"How's _Chuo University_?"

Iwaizumi's eyes narrow before his mouth turns up, a true, slow smile. True happiness. How annoying. "Good. How's Tsukuba?"

" _Very_ good," Oikawa brags, ruthlessly sticking a pin in the rant he was about to go on, about how _crowded_ Tsukuba's gym is in the mornings, how omegas have a separate locker room and it's _lonely_ , how the current setter is competent but not nearly as talented as Oikawa and not at all graceful about admitting it, and how, no matter how well Oikawa tosses, how perfect his aim is, how perfect the shot is, _Iwaizumi is never there to hit it_ , which is really the root of all his problems. 

"Oh," Iwaizumi says. "They won."

Mad Dog-chan is surrounded by the team, and Yahaba hugs him tight enough to lift off the floor, falling back onto his ass. Oikawa raises an eyebrow. 

"That was interesting."

Iwaizumi makes a worried grunt of agreement beside him. 

Kyoutani Kentarou is an omega – a surly, monster of one, but an omega all the same, and the only one that ever played volleyball at Aoba Johsai alongside Oikawa. Iwaizumi kept him in line with brute force, but Yahaba took him on with nothing but a few words.

"… I'm sure Irihata-san has his eye on it," Iwaizumi says after a beat.

"Hopefully."

There's bows and applause, then Aoba Johsai is rushed off the court and Iwaizumi stands.

"Their next game is in an hour," he says. "Want to get something to eat?"

"Sure," Oikawa says, though he wants to be disagreeable and say _no,_ though he's not entirely sure why.

It's normal, is the thing. 

It's normal, normal, _normal_.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa have never talked about mating. Never, not even as a joke.

Alpha and omega mating can get intense, and stupid, aggressive and fixated, leading to premature bonding, especially as teenagers, and high schoolers are regularly cautioned against it. Aoba Johsai was a close team, as close to a pack as there is, nowadays, and the risk was always at the forefront of Oikawa's mind, all through high school. He refused to throw off Aoba Johsai's balance, and had assumed these were Iwaizumi's concerns, as well. 

But now they are not on the same team. 

They are not in the same university, they are not in the same city, and Iwaizumi is not even answering his texts.

It's embarrassing to admit, but Oikawa has been looking forward to meeting up for weeks, even dressing very carefully for this now-rare occasion to see Iwaizumi face to face, to feel his presence and be close enough to smell that sharp, smoky scent.

It's time for something _better_ than normal, Oikawa has been patient! They both have, but there is clearly nothing outside of _the norm_ in Iwaizumi's invitation and Oikawa bites it down on the tantrum for more, refusing to degrade himself enough to _ask_ outright. Oikawa has been the recipient of far too many emotional confessions of love to associate it with anything but humiliating degradation. Iwaizumi knows, and Oikawa knows, and Oikawa is not going to blink first.

So they banter instead, normally, trying to decide between eating the shittier, closer food in the auditorium, or going all the way across the street for something better.

"' _All the way_ ', just how lazy are you?"

"Very," Oikawa says, smiling pretty, resting his chin in his hand.

"Christ," Iwaizumi says. "It's like you're asking me to punch you – "

" _Omega, omega, omega ~_ " 

It's a sing-song/chant from the empty court. Oikawa and Iwazumi both grow quiet, listening to the vaguely familiar voice but unable to place it. 

"What's Arai so happy about?" a second voice asks.

"We're playing Karasuno next."

"Yeah? So?"

"Are you serious?"

"They have _three omegas_ in the starting line up!"

At this, Oikawa stands, and they're both moving to the edge of rail to get a view of the court below, where the new team is warming up.

Sarayashiki. 

Oikawa sneers,

~

"Hey, hey, pretty setter!"

Oikawa glances up from his serve, but continues bouncing the ball. 

It came from the other side of the net – Sarayashiki's wing spiker. First year, alpha, annoyingly tall for his age. Annoyingly powerful spikes, but lacks precision; easily redirected; not a threat; _boring._ Even with the way he's been blatantly ogling Oikawa, he hasn't been interesting enough to make it onto Aoba Johsai's radar. 

The spiker is out of position, up near the net, wearing the reckless, angry grin of a player who has already accepted his defeat, and now has nothing to lose.

"Let's make a bet!"

Oikawa catches the ball. Raises an eyebrow, waiting.

"If we win this set," says the spiker. "You give me the pretty omega panties you're wearing right now – " 

An explosion of outrage from Aoba Johsai, nearly drowning out the rest of the spiker's taunt.

" – and if I can guess the color – "

The spiker is whacked upside the head by the ace on his own team. " _What's wrong with you?_ "

"S-sorry about that!" Sarayashiki's captain says, rushing up to the net, bowing. "Arai joined the team to meet cute omegas in the stands, so you can imagine how excited he gets when he's actually playing one…"

"Shut his mouth or _get him off the court_ ," Iwaizumi says, meeting him at the net, and Sarayashiki's captain falls a few steps back, intimidated. All the commotion is more than enough time for Oikawa regain any lost composure, and he smiles, coldly, bouncing the ball, enjoying the sharp slap of it against his palm. 

Frankly, outside of the crudeness, it was a disappointingly unoriginal taunt. 

Easily shaken off, and, unfortunately for Sarayashiki, a misstep on Arai's part. It's the kind of distraction that could send an aggressive team spiraling, and Aoba Johsai is a team of alphas, save Oikawa and beta Kunimi. He's not sure if that was on Arai's mind when he said it, a calculated move, or if he's just genuinely a pervert, but either way, Oikawa has experience redirecting Aoba Johsai's energy, aiming it properly, refocusing it where it needs to be. He knows how to use this.

"Hmm," Oikawa sighs, a quiet, bored noise, but his team is primed and waiting. "It looks like this court is infested with delinquents. Let's help wipe them out."

Aoba Johsai's focus palpably increases.

It's not his favorite role to play, the virtuous and pure omega in need of avenging, but it sharpens the fangs of his alphas, getting them locked on target with ruthless fury, and they crush Sarayashiki – 25-9. 

~

"They actually got past the first round?" Iwaizumi mutters.

Last year they were a mess, but it looks like more than half the team has been switched out, including the ace and captain that kept Arai on a leash. Either they were third years, or just lost interest in the sport, Oikawa can't say. The new faces look bigger than the average first year, though, taller and heavier. Arai himself is only a second year, but even from a distance Oikawa can see how he's grown over the season. He towers over the rest of his all-alpha team and obviously holds a position of influence, the group watching avidly as he goes on.

"Karasuno has an omega blocker, omega ace, and omega setter."

"No way," another team member says, impressed. "Those are some big ticket positions." 

"A _blocker_ omega??"

" _And_ the pitch server," says Arai. "Plus _two_ omega managers, and an omega adviser!"

"That's like… 70% omega??"

"Yep. Always an omega in the rotation, practically guaranteed." 

"Damn..."

"Why aren't there any fun omegas at our school?"

"Seriously! Even our manager's a beta. We should start recruiting them next year."

"Uh, no thanks. Omegas never take sports seriously, it's just a chance to flirt."

"Hey, remember the Aoba Johsai setter last year?"

" _Oikawa_ ," one of them sighs. Iwaizumi makes a small, annoyed noise, gripping the railing. Oikawa doesn't grin, but he _notices_ , raising an eyebrow. It's not enough to make up for the unanswered texts, but it's an instinctive reaction on Iwaizumi's part, probably not even aware that he's doing it, and somewhat soothes the instinctive tantrum on Oikawa's.

"I doubt this Karasuno's setter will be like Oikawa," Arai is saying, thoughtfully. "That kind of omega is once in a lifetime."

"Think he's cute though?"

"Probably."

"He's gotta be. To make it this far? The whole team is probably filled with the cutest omegas in the prefecture!!"

Oikawa coughs into his fist to hide the snorting laugh, elbowing Iwaizumi beside him.

"Right, well, while the rest of you are all thinking with your dicks, _I'm_ going to stay focused. You know Karasuno's setter is Oikawa's kohai right?"

"... Fuck me, for real?"

"Like some kinda… omega mentorship?" 

"An omega bond."

"Fuck."

The conversation below grows quiet, contemplative.

The amusement has died, and Oikawa feels his lip curling in disgust. There's _heat_ there, the team below is obviously imagining something straight out of some perverted omega/omega manga. A full _bond_? While he was still in junior high?? With _Kageyama_??

"Omegas don't bond like that," the player who says manages to sound even more disgusted with the idea than Oikawa.

"They totally do, they can even do mate marks – "

"Well, they shouldn't," says the first one, then, after a contemplative beat, "I mean, unless there's an alpha there and they approve it."

"Obviously, but – "

"Guys! Focus! Shinichi's right. Karasuno's omegas are probably cute – with lots of experience distracting alphas. You can't let your guard down."

"Hnn.. I bet a lot of teams have taken it easy on them up to now." 

"Exactly. We need to remember - we're here to win!"

"... Think they'll cry?"

"Mm, I hope so."

"I hope _not!_ I hate it when omegas cry."

"You'll have to be strong, Itchi."

The team turns to discussing 'strategy,' if you can call it that, and Iwaizumi looks disgusted. 

"They're more likely to end up crying than Karasuno," Iwaizumi says.

"I hope not," Oikawa says, blandly. "I hate it when alphas cry." Iwaizumi is right, though. Mr. Refreshing was fine for some eye candy, but he's gone. They still have Freckles but he's mostly reserve. Glasses and Tobio-chan, who will be staring them down directly beside the net, are as flirtatious as two blocks of ice. 

"Too bad that Big Gun ace omega isn't still on the team," Oikawa says, pulling out his phone. 

"What's that for?" Iwaizumi asks eyes narrowed.

"Just in case something interesting happens," Oikawa hums, switching to the camera. Going by Arai's shamelessness last year and Glasses and Kageyama's surliness, Oikawa figures it's pretty likely. At the last second he recognizes the intent in Iwaizumi's silence and yanks his phone to the right, out of reach, when Iwaizumi tries to smack it from his hand. "Iwa-chan is such a bully!!"

Iwaizumi gives up, the touch lasting a moment longer than necessary, squeezing at the back of Oikawa's neck just once, a sort of warning pinch, and Oikawa's mouth goes dry, an involuntary shiver snaking up his back.

Fuck. 

The stands start filling again, Karasuno enters the gym, and Arai gasps.

" _Elegant omega~_ "

" _Queen_ omega!"

"Brown eyes and blond hair? An autumn pixie!"

"Wanna take a bite~"

"They can't be serious," Iwaizumi says.

"They're not," Oikawa says. "It's an intimidation tactic." 

The catcalling might have started out as Arai just running his mouth last year, but it's apparently evolved. The whole team is going at it and reminds Oikawa of a pack of dogs, ganging up on its prey. Deliberate, systematic, and it's working. Karasuno's captain – a third year who wasn't even in the main rotation last year – is the only one successfully ignoring it, jogging through his warming up team, clapping his hands and shouting out last minute instructions that are going ignored, the rest of the team fixated on the taunting on the other side of the net, shouting back insults or just looking sick.

Oikawa pockets his phone, less amused as it drags on. He knows taunting is part of volleyball, and as long as it doesn't delay the game, a player would have to say something truly hair-curling for the ref to step in during warm ups, but it's becoming unpleasant to watch.

"Black hair, blue eyed omega – _regal!_ " 

"Be my omega, step on my face!"

Honestly, out of everyone, he would've expected Kageyama to be the least affected, and is surprised to see the obvious tension in his shoulders, the flinch when their attention turns on him.

Iwaizumi clearly sees it as well. He's nearing the end of his patience, both his hands in fists on the rail, faint, dangerous rumble from his throat, that same annoyed growl as before.

Oikawa _notices_.

~

"Good afternoon, Tooru-san." The first year beta waiting outside the gym is blushing, looking down at her feet as she holds out the Tupperware container.

Oikawa's eyes brighten immediately. He's gotten enough gifts to know, plain Tupperware – _sealed tight!_ – certainly means there's something especially yummy inside. "Is this for me?"

She nods, still unable to make eye contact as he takes the treats, cracking the lid and inhaling deep, wondering if it's cookies or chocolates or – 

Oikawa freezes. The overpowering stench of vinegar, egg, and fish. He forces the smile back on his face.

"You made these?"

"Yes," she says, barely a whisper, sinking into herself. She must have seen his crack of composure. 

Oikawa redoubles his smile, bending slightly to get in her eyeline, which is impossible, as she is quite tiny. "You're very talented!"

She's covering her bright red cheeks, biting down her smile, "N-not as talented as you, Tooru-san!"

"Ah, that's so kind! I'm sure these will give me lots of energy. Thank you... "

"Aiko."

"Ai-chan," Oikawa says, smiling. "I'll think of you when I eat them! Enjoy your holiday, alright?"

"Y-you, also, too – please!" she stutters out, bowing as she does, and that seems to be the end of her courage, because she bows once more, then bolts.

He adds the gift from Aiko to the pile of presents he's received thus far today. It's the last day before the winter break, and Oikawa is popular, with younger omegas and betas especially. He's tall for an omega – for an alpha, even – but pretty, and approachable, and a safe alternative to mysterious and aggressive alphas. Oikawa loves every bit of it. He loves the attention, the gifts, and in a way he loves each one of the timid creatures who work up the courage to approach, giving freely the incredibly fragile, valuable offer of their hearts, alongside their crafts and treats and – fishy vinegar eggs. 

Oikawa hums happily as he gathers all his gifts into his bag, cradling the overflow in his arms, nearly running into Iwaizumi on his way out.

"There you are," Iwaizumi says, and actually sounds flustered.

"What? Of course here I am, I'm not late," Oikawa says, defensively, before he notices – 

Omegas and betas crush on Oikawa, but underclassmen crush on Iwaizumi, too. Oikawa saw it last season when they were second years, and it's even worse now, Iwaizumi naturally hitting his stride as a wise and knowledgeable third year. _Senpai supreme._ At one point or another every single first year on the team has had their heart hooked on Iwaizumi, and trialling behind him a bit hopelessly, clumsily infatuated. 

Physically, Iwaizumi doesn't particularly stand out, but he gives off an aura that's addictive – experienced, sure, strong, safe. Young alphas in particular flock to it, hoping for his approval and attention. They don't tend toward gifts, but will show off for him during practice, ask for his opinion, his help, his touch and care.

It is immediately obvious what happened as soon as Oikawa spots the volleyball charm on Iwaizumi's gym bag, glinting in the light, shiny and silver and brand new, the sort of knickknacky nonsense Iwaizumi would never be frivolous enough to buy himself, combined with Iwaizumi's frazzled state.

"Who confessed?" Oikawa asks, grinning.

Interestingly, Iwaizumi's expression grows defensive and unamused. His tone is warning. "Don't, Shittykawa."

Oikawa is genuinely confused for a moment – don't _what?_ Why would Oikawa, of all people, be cruel about an underclassman giving a gift, as if there's any he could be resentful – Oh. 

Oikawa's expression stiffens. 

"Don't what?" he asks, feeling his smile going wonky and mean, the kind that pisses Iwaizumi off tremendously. "Tease him?"

Iwaizumi doesn't say anything, mouth pinched. This is actually infuriating, because he's holding something back, and it would really have to be _quite something_ to make Iwaizumi bite his tongue. 

"What?" Oikawa demands.

"Just _don't_ ," Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa waves his hand dismissively. "I won't say a word," he says. "Poor Tobio-chan didn't stand a chance with dashing Iwaizumi-senpai around - "

Iwaizumi smacks him, knocking a stuffed bear and box of chocolates to the floor. "Ow!!"

"Don't _that_ , Crappykawa."

"Fine. You're going to give him the wrong idea by keeping it, you know," Oikawa says, not caring that he sounds petty, lifting his chin as they walk home.

"What, you want me to throw it out?"

" _Obviously!_ "

Iwaizumi doesn't even have to say it, gesturing at the spilled chocolates on the floor.

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because," Oikawa says. "They're not my teammates, and – "

Oikawa bites his tongue. _They're not Kageyama_ , which would sound jealous and stupid, but it's the truth. They understand the social niceties of giving Oikawa gift, that the dance ends there, that it's the moment and that's _all_. He doesn't trust Kageyama to know that, he doesn't trust _kind Iwaizumi-senpai_ to make it clear, but he also knows a lot of this is irrational. If the trinket was from Kunimi, he would only be ribbing Iwaizumi in good humor.

"None of our kohais got _me_ a present," he finishes instead, sticking out his tongue in an especially bratty tone. "I'm jealous!"

Iwaizumi sighs heavily, shaking his head, hearing the truth. "As if you need to be."

~

The new Aoba Joshai wins the last game of the day in the third set, but it's close – 24 to 26. They're happy enough about it, an air of breathless, exhausted victory as they talk to the coach out in the hallway.

" – and this is allowance you only get because of your especially solid performance. I expect all of you to be on the bullet train home by nine, understand?"

"Yes, coach!" They shout back.

"Going on a tour of Osaka?" Oikawa asks, and they all startle in surprise. 

"Oikawa-san!"

The third and second years temper down their smiles almost immediately, while the first years remain openly starstruck, and Oikawa can't help preening.

"Ah, Tooru," Coach Irihata says, smile sincere as he steps to the side. "Iwaizumi. With these two on the team I barely had a job at all last season! They've got a keen eye for the game, so listen up."

"Hm, right. Hm," Oikawa says, tapping at his lip as he realizes he hadn't really prepared anything at all.

"Please coach us, senpai," Yahaba asks, grinning, teasing, obviously incredibly proud of both his team and the captain's jersey.

"Well, first of all, I am disappointed," Oikawa says, hands on his hips. "If you keep preforming like this you're going to make people forget your amazing Tooru-senpai!"

The third and second years stare, unimpressed and unmoved, but the first years eyes shine.

"We were that good??"

"Seriously, Oikawa-san," Kunimi prods, voice flat. He was never one to tolerate being placated, and from the slight tightening of his mouth it's clear to see he's nervous about his performance. That Oikawa was there to see it. 

"I was happy with my competent replacement," Oikawa says, sincere, hand on Kunimi's shoulder. "But if you expect to make it past quarterfinals, you'll have to be more than just competent. Mm? Mad Dog-chan can't be the only one taking risks. Playing it safe will get shut down against wild card teams and – " Oikawa inhales sharply, unable to stop the childish shout, pointing at the lot of them – "I won't tolerate hearing that you lost to Karasuno!!"

"Oikawa-san would come back as a ghoul and haunt the gym," Kindaichi mutters.

"What? I graduated, I didn't _die_."

"This team has everything it needs to take Aoba Johsai to nationals," Iwaizumi says, batting Oikawa to the side. "You need to trust that. Timid plays won't cut it. You're strong. Act like it."

Annoyingly, this is what makes the team grow serious, nodding.

"So!" Oikawa says, bumping his shoulders into Iwaizumi to retake his place in the front, clapping his hands. "Who's hungry? A treat from your senpai!"

They end up going across the street.

It is expensive.

"You're the one who offered," Iwaizumi grins wickedly at Oikawa's weeping face when they get the bill, then, in a surprising display of generosity, pulls out his own wallet. "We'll split it."

The team has until nine to roam the city, and doesn't seem to know what to do with themselves once they make it out onto the street. They walk through some of more popular areas aimlessly. It's almost seven and the Osaka nightlife is waking up – bright signs lighting up in windows, vendors setting up their carts, the smell of roasting meats and deep fried pastries filling the air, and Oikawa enjoys it, smiling over at Iwaizumi. He likes the atmosphere of the city, he likes being surrounded by familiar teammates and friends, and he likes Iwa-chan. 

Iwaizumi shoves him, gently, shoulder to shoulder, obviously sensing his mood. "There it is," he teases. "Another one of those impure smiles."

Oikawa just winks.

"Hey, there's an arcade!"

It's one of the first years, looking absolutely delighted about it.

"There's arcades in Miyagi, dumbass," Kindaichi says. "We should do something we can't do anywhere else!"

"Well, there are some big parks, small parks, the hot springs, museums, if you have the money," Oikawa says. "Or we could go the one of the malls, if you want to buy your senpais a gift in return for that dinner."

They settle on the arcade. 

~

"So, good news! Your father finally managed to sell all that Hosei gear."

"To who?" Oikawa snorts, remembering the pile of Hosei University merchandise his father impulse bought the day Oikawa received a scholarship offer in the mail. Three more universities eventually sent offers, giving Oikawa his pick, and he went with Tsukuba. The pile of gear went into the loft, only good for teasing his father.

"He went online," his mother says. "Found a family in Murata with a student in their second year. I don't know if he mentioned how much was volleyball related, though," she laughs. "So, how are you? How is your team? Your classes?"

"Good, fine, and easier than I expected," Oikawa says, laying on the bed in his dorm, tossing a volley ball toward the ceiling.

"No alphas giving you a hard time, right?" she asks. His mother and sisters are betas, and his father is an alpha, and his mother had always been particularly paranoid about the ever present threat of roaming, virile alphas preying on her omega son. "I wish Iwaizumi had made it into Tsukuba… how is he?"

"Hm?" Oikawa asks, lightly, as though he couldn't care less. "Haven't heard from him."

"Haven't heard from him? Since when?" she asks, baffled, as though the concept of Iwaizumi not speaking to Oikawa is a literal impossibility, and rubbing salt deep, deep into the wound. 

"August, I think," he says, spinning the ball on his finger now.

He knows it's not personal. 

The thing he doesn't really want to admit, to anyone, the thing that makes his gut twist in embarrassment, is that he _wanted_ it to be personal. He had expected to be the exception, for Iwaizumi to seek him out, to answer his messages while leaving the rest unread. He's sure if he made a bigger fuss, if he texted every day, Iwaizumi would respond. But his pride only allows him to stew in unspoken, insecure resentment.

She must hear it, because it doesn't fool his mother for a second. She her voice goes soft. "You know he's probably working very hard, Tooru. He's always been a serious student."

"Tch," Oikawa says, feeling cruel. "Only because he has to be." 

"Well, I would be very surprised to hear he's spending time with any other omegas in any case!"

As if he had said anything about that!! Oikawa flushes in annoyance at his mother's blatant disregard for Oikawa's carefully maintained _cool_. "Iwaizumi can do whatever he likes. And – I hope he is! Because I am!"

His mother sighs. "You two – " she stops. "It's a shame you didn't go to the same school," she says again.

It feels like a cruel simplification of the situation. "Yeah," he grunts shortly.

"You should talk to him!"

"Yeah," he grunts again, too embarrassed to say he's _tried_.

"I'm sure he's just busy with his team and the new school! And his new classes, you always helped him with his English, didn't you? I bet doing that on his own is taking up a lot of time, as well."

"Mother, if you want to discuss what Iwa-chan's been up to," he says, sugar sweet. "I can give you his number to talk directly!"

"Oh! Don't take that tone with me, Tooru!" she says, and sighs again. "I'm sure you'll hear from him as soon as he has free time."

"Did you know Tsukuba Space Center is only nine blocks away?" Oikawa says, keeping the same chipper tone his mother had objected to, but she's always gone easy on her youngest omega.

There's a beat. "No, I did not," she says, and lets him go on, indulgently.

~

Aoba Johsai messes around in the arcade an hour or so, most of the time spent leaning against a crane game, watching Kunimi grab prize after prize. Going to a movie is discussed, but no one can agree on what to see, and there's really not enough time anyway. 

"But Iwaizumi and I don't have to be anywhere by nine," Oikawa says, masking it as a way to mock his kohais, but Iwaizumi scrunches his nose in a negative.

"There's nothing good playing," he says.

"There's the mall, too. Bars..." Oikawa says, and knows he's reaching. "Shrines..."

"And a sixty minute ride back to Chuo," Iwaizumi says.

"Right, because Iwa-chan is such a _serious student_." It's almost nine, and Oikawa pouts about it as they walk the team down to the bullet train, until a slow, repeated, rolling boom catches his attention.

Across the street, there is a club with flashing green, neon clovers beside the name _LUCKY_.

It's a huge building, the insides mysterious, dark and foggy, lit entirely by thin, long streaks of green backlights. There's two levels of dance floors, and from outside Oikawa can see the silhouettes of people who aren't dancing, tall, elegant figures in clusters of twos and threes, holding drinks, standing with easy, lazy authority and sophistication.

"You know," he says, half the team already down the steps to the train. "Most clubs in Osaka don't card."

They freeze mid-step. 

"Really?" Kindaichi asks, looking between Oikawa and the club across the street.

"Really?" Iwaizumi says, a flat, less than impressed echo.

"How many chances are they going to have to visit a city like Osaka??" Oikawa asks. "We'll be there!" 

"They'll have a chance when they're older," Iwaizumi says. "You seriously want to take first years into a club?"

"I could take the first years home," Motomu says, staring at the club like one might an old, moldy sock.

"Really?!"

"Yes!! Team spirit!"

"What about Irihata?" Iwaizumi asks.

"He's probably in bed already," Kunimi says, doing a poor job of hiding his interest, craning his neck to check out the club. "He won't know what time what we get back."

"Until you show up dead tired and hung over tomorrow morning," Iwaizumi says.

"There's no practice tomorrow!!" Kindaichi shouts, like he threw down a winning hand in a card game. 

Everyone is staring expectantly at Iwaizumi, eyes hopeful and bright – Oikawa doesn't want the night to end. He doesn't want the excuse to keep Iwaizumi near him without _begging for it_ to vanish, he doesn't want to go down those steps and end up taking the forty minute train ride north, while Iwaizumi goes east, where he will be completely ignored, until Oikawa can find a good enough reason for him to take another break.

Finally, Iwaizumi relents with a heavy, annoyed eye roll. "Fine."

There's a collective shout of victory from the team, clamoring up the steps and rushing across the street. 

"Stop," Iwaizumi says once they get there, grabbing Mad Dog-chan by the back of the shirt, nearly choking him, the rest of the team turns around, surprised. "Most clubs don't bother to card, but if a group of alphas rush the door like bunch of starved chimpanzees, they're probably not getting in. Calm down."

"Right – right, yeah," Yahaba says, smoothing down his hair, which gets Kindaichi comically smoothing his up.

Iwaizumi evaluates the team's poker faces with narrow, critical eyes, adjusts Mad Dog-chan's shirt, then nods. 

Without a word – the same way he simply dropped into the chair next to Oikawa after two months of silence – he slings his arm over Oikawa's shoulder, and with a rather bored expression, turns around, and the two of them stroll through the club without hassle. The rest follow like a line of ducklings, and the bouncer looks the other way with an amused, indulgent smile. 

LUCKY is full of obviously trendy, stylish college students, and while the high schoolers take in the scene with wide eyes and open mouths, Oikawa holds back. The team stands out painfully in the clean, bright white Aoba Johsai uniform, and he's second guessing this decision. The third years Oikawa knew – Hanamaki and Matsukawa – could've easily blended in with this crowd in high school, but the next generation is obviously not made of the same stuff, and they look very out of place.

"Hey!! High schoolers!!"

"You part of a club?!"

" _Volleyball!_ " Three of them shout back to the drunk dancer.

" _Ey!!!_ " The dancers shouts back, happy, amused by the novelty and the team's enthusiasm. Soon others are shouting questions, encouraging the team out onto the dance floor, and Yahaba even gets someone offering to buy them all a round when he tells them they won.

"Has Iwa-chan become a raver?" Oikawa teases, amused by Iwaizumi's knowledgeable air. He expects Iwaizumi to back down once getting called out.

He does not. He shrugs, arm still over Oikawa's shoulder, his scent especially rich and strong, almost overbearing after being away for so long, but mostly a familiar comfort.

"Chuo has some, uh. Partiers," he says.

Oikawa's expression cracks, then he forces a smile. "I see. Iwa-chan is a real college student now."

"'Real'?" Iwaizumi repeats, unimpressed. "Don't be jealous, Shittykawa – "

"Are you gonna get a drink?" Oikawa asks, pulling away, heading up to the bar.

".. No," Iwaizumi says, letting it drop.

Iwaizumi is going to clubs. 

Iwaizumi isn't busy studying, he's going to clubs. Iwaizumi is going to clubs and Oikawa is texting him about volleyball practice and fictional creatures. 

Oikawa knows he has an ugly expression on his face as he heads up to the bar, but it's still pretty enough for him to get an offer from an alpha to buy his drink. She's curvy and blond and gorgeous, smells like ginger and coconut, and he says yes immediately.

"And what's your story, cutie?" she asks, leaning against the bar.

Oikawa settles into the soothing rhythm of the conversation easily – he loves flirting, loves talking with alphas, loves being doted on, and being charming in return. She asks his age, his classes, his interests, complimenting his pretty face, his cute smile, brown eyes, and his bad mood has more or less melted away by the end of it, practically purring under her attention. 

She laughs lightly at the sight Aoba Johsai makes on the dance floor, impossible to miss with how close they stick together, and the matching bright white jackets. She nods toward them, "Is it sports night or something?"

"Must be a tournament," the bartender says, setting Oikawa's drink on the counter. "The other team is volleyball, too."

"Other team?" Oikawa asks, glancing around the club, expression dropping when he sees _fucking Sarayashiki._

Still in their uniforms, even, not on the dance floor but in a booth, having what appears to be a grand old time.

"Thanks for the drink," Oikawa nods and smiles, taking a step back.

"Aw," the alpha pouts, and it's actually quite cute. "Can't I get one little kiss?"

It's chaste and brief, and, judging by his annoyed expression, Iwaizumi saw the entire thing. Oikawa rejoins him at the table he's found near the dance floor, where they can properly chaperone the team. "You better not drink too much to be useful. This was your idea."

"It's not really something I can control!" Oikawa says. "It's rude to refuse a gift, Iwa-chan, isn't it?"

Iwaizumi stares, clearly able to tell there's something unspoken there, but probably not connecting it to a silver volleyball charm in particular. "You're in a bratty mood."

"Bratty?" Oikawa says, voice chipper even as irritation rises inside him. It's not often he feels justified, the one that's actually been _wronged_ , but he feels like he has been today, has been for months, and in a strange way it makes him feel powerful, anger sliding through his veins like some cleaner form of adrenaline, and it makes him smile. "You can pay for my drinks instead, if you're feeling jealous."

"Hardly," Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, crossing his arms, and goes back to watching the team on the floor. 

"Mmm, I see," Oikawa says, tapping the table and smiling as he thinks. That was actually it, the first time anything other than friendship has been vocally hinted at between them. It was met with rejection. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he's always been wrong, or maybe something changed in the few months they were apart. 

Or maybe, somehow even more infuriating, he's right, and Iwaizumi is just being a fucking walking bag of cocks, too – too lazy to say something! Or too – too – what? Oikawa doesn't know what it could be that's holding him back.

"Hey!" A voice _gasps_. "It's pretty setter-chan!!"

Arai and his team of alpha assholes, a parody of even his mother's worst fear, had been on their way to the dance floor, distracted by Oikawa along the way, and all eight of them start walking over to his table instead.

"Where were you today, pretty boy?? We didn't get to see you play!"

Iwaizumi starts to stand, to tell them to back off, but Oikawa waves him down.

"Don't be rude, Iwa-chan!" he says, pleasantly, and Iwaizumi literally double takes in confusion, looking between the group and Oikawa. "I was only a spectator this year."

"Good thing! It'd be a shame if you had to play against any more _delinquents_ ," says the alpha in jersey #5, and they all laugh. 

Oikawa laughs along with them, watching Iwaizumi's confused irritation grow out the corner of his eye. "I did have to watch a nasty team of them, unfortunately."

They _ooooh_ at the insult, jostling one another and laughing. Happy, because Oikawa is openly flirting, leaning across the table toward them, running his finger along the rim of his drink.

"Tooru-san has some teeth on him!"

"Can I get you a drink?" #2 asks, and when Oikawa raises an eyebrow, and the cup in his hand, #2 grins. "Heh. Another drink, then?"

"Of course. Iwaizumi," Oikawa says, turning to face him with a wide smile. "Would you like our new friends to buy you a drink?"

Sarayashiki grows suddenly quiet, watching. #2's grin stretches to shit-eating proportions. It's probably the most emasculating thing an omega could ask an alpha.

Iwaizumi stares back, blank. Finally, in a calm, cold voice, he says, "Sure."

Oikawa raises both eyebrows, not expecting that, not realizing it was a bluff, really, until Iwaizumi called it.

"Drinks for me and my friend," Oikawa says to #2. "If that's alright."

"Hell yeah!" #2 says, and nearly falls over himself to get to the bar.

"We played your kohai today," Arai reports, and is watching hungrily for a reaction.

"I saw," Oikawa says. "I also saw him beat you."

"Yeah, they were a pretty solid team for having so many omegas," #8 says, looking annoyed. "That left side was powerful."

Oikawa wants to tell them about last year, about the cannon that used to be on Karasuno's left, and they actually got off _easy_ , and how, _by and by_ , that cannon was an omega, but instead he just smiles flirtatiously. "Not as strong as Sarayashiki's left, though."

#8 inhales sharply, and Oikawa is fairly certain he just got the beginnings of an erection.

#2 returns, holding two ridiculously pretty drinks, pink and sparkling with fat, sugar-dipped slices of fruit impaled on the straw.

"Enjoy!" he says, setting them on the table.

Iwaizumi calmly takes the straw out, sets it on the napkin, and maintains eye contact with #2 as he takes a long, slow draw.

The table is small, only made for two, Iwaizumi and Oikawa surrounded on all sides by the extra large, ridiculous teenage alphas. 

They are full of bristling, posturing energy, clearly jostling for Iwaizumi's chosen position beside Oikawa, and Oikawa finds himself drawn to the way Iwaizumi maintains his authority, control of the situation, seemingly without effort. But he can tell – he can see Iwaizumi's slightly flexing jaw – this is an extreme act of restraint. He wants to lose it, wants to rise the bait, get in their face, but instead calmly sits the drink back down on the table.

"Thanks," Iwaizumi says to #2, and the word somehow comes across like a condescending pat on the cheek.

Oikawa realizes his mouth is open slightly, and closes it, swallowing. He has never felt _want_ like this in his life. 

"Wanna dance?" 

Oikawa has to blink, clear his head, glancing over at Arai, who asked. He glances back to Iwaizumi, impressed enough to forgive it all, really, all he'd need is the words – 

Iwaizumi's voice is an obvious dare. "Have fun."

Well. Not _those_ words.

Sour beyond belief, Oikawa smiles his most guileless smile. "I would love to." 

The anger has returned, stronger than it’s been all evening, combined with frustration and fresh rejection. He stands, tossing his crumpled napkin onto the table, and heads out to the dance floor with Arai. 

Oikawa only just identifies the alpha's scent as musky peppercorn and wood, and is unable to decide if he likes it or not before it’s swamped by the mess of scents on the dance floor. 

It's loud, the crowd so thick he can't even see his team anymore. The smells are overwhelming, to the point of being unpleasant - entirely alpha, especially aggressive and potent, reminding Oikawa of the last set of an intense game, when alphas are at their most aggressive. 

"You like this song?" Arai asks, loudly. Oikawa doesn't know it, suspects it's actually a chopped-up mix of whatever the original song was, but he nods. He likes anything that will get Iwaizumi jealous, or pissed off. Whichever one he's capable of drawing from the alpha nowadays. 

Arai grins, excited, plastering their bodies together.

He is a terrible dancer. 

He rocks his hips, and Oikawa can only follow the rhythm his larger body sets, feeling like he's being _ridden_ rather than danced with. _Why does anyone do this?_ is his thought, before it occurs to him that if he actually _liked_ the alpha currently wrapped around him, trusted the massive hands on his waist, sliding down toward his ass, rocking his body like a toy, this could be pleasant , but as is, it's uncomfortable, and loud, and the wafts of competing alphas around him are setting him on edge.

No, he decides, almost calmly. He doesn't like this. Not even in the greediest, most attention-seeking sense; this alpha is a loudmouthed idiot who will literally mount anything that stands still long enough for him to get a grip. Oikawa doesn't want his attention, doesn't want his hands on him, and he grows colder, and less cooperative, as the humping and grinding continues. 

The music is so loud that Arai has to bend down for Oikawa to hear him, speaking so close against this ear that he can feel his breath down his neck. "So can I see Oikawa's pretty panties now?"

He flinches back, and Arai laughs, his hand pressing between Oikawa's shoulders and forcing them closer together again. 

"Okay, this was fun, but I think that's enough for now," Oikawa says, pushing back, but Arai just follows, greedy, still working his hips.

"Come on, let's do something fuuh – aahh!" He's yelping in pain, and Oikawa is suddenly free of his grip, falling back, not having to look to know it's Iwaizumi's chest he's fallen back against; his sturdy, solid frame.

"Ah, thanks Iwa-ch – " There's a fist on the back of his shirt, cutting him short in a yelp, _yanking_ him away from the dance floor. Oikawa stumbles along backward for a moment, pulled back to the tables like a misbehaving child, then still going, until they're out the door, and on the sidewalk.

"What was that?" Iwaizumi is furious, and frustrated - mostly frustrated, now that Oikawa looks again.

"I," Oikawa takes a deep breath. "Was having fun."

"Knock it off," Iwaizumi says, searching Oikawa's face. "If you were trying to make me jealous – "

Oikawa feels his jaw clench, his lip curl. "Hardly."

Iwaizumi blinks, taking in the heat there. He clear his throat. "Then _what_ – "

"I was _having fun_ ," Oikawa repeats. 

"That's _fun_? Arai is _fun_?"

"Yes!"

"That's – what you want to do?"

"Who are you, Iwaizumi?"

"What?"

"You just _dragged_ me out of a club," Oikawa says, jerking at his own shirt in emphasis. "But you're not my father, not my mother. You're not my ace anymore. You're definitely not my _alpha_. So. Who are you?"

Oikawa steam runs out immediately, as soon as he closes his mouth. The anger is over, fear taking its place. It's not how he wanted to have this conversation, he never imagined it as something full of anger and fear, but it has to be said now, he has to know _now_.

There's a long stretch of silence, and when he looks at Iwaizumi's face, he sees a kind of seething anger there that he's never seen before, not even at his worst.

"Tooru," Iwaizumi says. His voice is cold, the thing he used at the table against the other alphas, and it's disarming. "The only people who want to be anything to you don't know any better."

Oikawa is speechless. 

"You use people," Iwaizumi says. "You watch them, find what you want from them, take it, then throw them out when they can't do it anymore." 

Usually, in Iwaizumi's anger, he approaches, he gets in Oikawa's space. 

Now, he keeps his distance, practically curling in on himself, and even ignoring the words themselves, the difference leaves Oikawa feeling dazed.

"… Oh," he says.

Iwaizumi will regret saying such a hurtful thing, Oikawa knows this immediately. Tomorrow morning, or a week, or in a year – he's not sure when, exactly, but he will regret it. Even if he truly felt them, the words were cruel, going beyond honesty, aiming to hurt.

The steel core in Oikawa, the part of him that is always, always coolly detached from any emotional conflict is the only thing able to respond just now, and knows there's nothing more he can say here to resolve this. This anger is irrational, impossible to reason with, and the best medicine for it is time.

"Okay," Oikawa nods, lightly, turns around, and walks away. 

It's habit and hope that keeps him expecting Iwaizumi to rush up at any second – they just had a fight, and that is how they resolve all fights, and he also desperately wants him to. But Iwaizumi does not.

Still reeling, he crosses the street, heads down to the bullet train for the forty minute ride north.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts out with Oikawa introspection, then Kageyama appears, then it's just rape all the way down. This one is Kageyama and Oikawa focused. Some violence unfortunately :(
> 
> Again this is Iwaizumi/Oikawa/Kageyama endgame :)

It's a fifteen minute wait for the north bound bullet train, and Oikawa spends the entire time leaning against the wall of the station, watching the stairs leading up to the street.

No one else appears, and the train arrives. 

The car in the back is thankfully empty, and Oikawa boards, sitting down heavily. It's only after the door closes, and any possible chance of talking this out with Iwaizumi is gone, that his brain actually shakes itself free of its stupor. 

Was... he wrong?

Was he _that_ thoroughly, completely, _delusional_? Did he misread everything, for – _years_?

Going just by tonight, the only conclusion he can reach is that Iwaizumi – never. Was literally _never_ interested. 

What, did he come to Osaka out of _pity?_ No, obviously. It doesn't fit. He remembers Iwaizumi's easy invitation to eat after the first game, he remembers their birthday celebrations just three and four months ago. Countless times, he can tick them off on his fingers, one by one, where Iwaizumi was obviously, unmistakably interested in spending time with Oikawa. Iwaizumi couldn't have faked it. But – that doesn't fit what he said, and Oikawa can tell, down to his bones, that he wasn't faking _that_ , either.

Oikawa leans forward, onto his knees, staring hard at the empty bench in front of him.

Maybe Iwaizumi just wants to be friends. Maybe he knew what Oikawa wanted, _expected_ , and got angry and flustered when cornered, because he didn't know how else to handle it.

Maybe he didn't get jealous, but _disgusted_. Oikawa's face heats slightly in embarrassment at his behavior. Maybe Iwaizumi was turned completely off after seeing Oikawa flirt with Arai's team.

Maybe he found someone else at Chuo University. At a _club_. Someone who is less – Oikawa narrows his eyes, pinching up his mouth. Less _Oikawa-y_ and more – docile. 

But no, he instinctively knows these aren't true, and this kind of self-pitying contemplation does not suit Oikawa, he grows more and more frustrated with each theory he tries on, and how they obviously do not fit.

The train makes a second stop, and Oikawa grimaces when he hears someone stepping on board, for once in no mood for small talk.

"Yeah." 

Christ.

In a defeated slump forward, Oikawa laughs softly, rubbing a hand down his face. 

Absurdly, impossibly, it's Kageyama. 

Just a short, quiet little grunt of a noise, but there's no mistaking it. "Yeah." Kageyama says again, on the phone, and when he gets close enough, Oikawa can see that he's nodding along. "Yeah." Oikawa just barely makes out _I'll be waiting at the station..._ on the other line as Kageyama passes by. He takes the seat across from Oikawa, finishes the call, pockets his phone and settles in, and only then registers that he's not alone in the train.

He startles like a cat, then immediately stiffens, sitting up comically straight. 

After a moment of tense silence, Oikawa raising his eyebrow and Kageyama staring at him with nothing but wary surprise, Oikawa relaxes. At least he won't have to worry about small talk. Or manners, even. He closes his eyes as the train starts moving again.

Tournaments are crowded, and usually filled with alphas, who are especially _potent_ in stressful situations, so it's been a while since he smelled Kageyama. He catches the once familiar scent as the train keeps going, and it takes Oikawa back in a vivid, uncomfortable, painful way. Battle wounds, ones scratched deep into his very soul, start to wake back up, aching as they do, delivered thoughtlessly, obliviously, by a boy who smells like spiced pears and vanilla. 

~

"Oi! First year!"

All six new players on Kitagawa Daiichi look up from the spike line.

"Eh – " Oikawa struggles to remember the name of the one with the especially round head. "You."

It's Tobio, Kageyama Tobio, and he hurries over to Oikawa as soon as he realizes he's being called.

"Yes! Oikawa-san!"

"I forgot," Oikawa says, tapping against his temple. "What part of the body do we hit the ball with, again?"

Kageyama blinks. "Um," he frowns down at the ball in his hands, bouncing it once, softly. "Fist?"

"Oh, so," Oikawa says, taking the ball from Kageyama. "Like this?" 

He tosses the ball up, and snaps at his wrist, hitting the ball like a sharp knock against a door. The ball arches weakly, dropping to the ground without hitting the net. Kageyama watches intently, obviously seeing his own miserable spike – he'd been preforming poorly in the first year spike line, his hits limp. Long and clean, arching high over the net, no speed, an easy delivery for the other team. 

That's fine, generally, especially for a player fresh out of elementary school, clearing the net regularly is really all they expect, and spiking with actual, effective power isn't expected in a first year. But it had rubbed Oikawa the wrong way – this first year is an omega, one of the few to actually apply for the club, and one of the _very_ few to hold his own with the rest. Like all offensive moves, spiking is not a skill an omega can slack on if they can help it – it's a weakness their enemies and future team members will be looking for in him, a target to attack or an excuse to exclude.

"Hm," Oikawa says, waves to Iwaizumi for another ball from the cart. "Maybe it'd be better if I hit the ball with _all_ of my body."

This time when he spikes it, he tenses everything, from the coiling muscles in his abdomen, to his shoulder, to his arm, feeding into his fist, which he _slams_ through the ball.

"Yes!" Kageyama says, watching where it lands, across the court and out of bounds, then back to Oikawa, face lit up with excitement. 

"So when you spike, you need to feel it here," Oikawa pokes Kageyama's stomach. " _Then_ your fist. Got it?"

"Yes! Thank you, Oikawa-senpai!" Kageyama bows and rushes back to the spike line. Oikawa joins Iwaizumi at the cart, and the fire in Kageyama's face is so intense it's comical.

"Oi, don't expect to become an expert if you're not trying to be on the left," Iwaizumi says, apparently seeing the same. "The only reason Oikawa can spike like that is because he practiced the last three – "

Everyone on the court stops, staring at Kageyama's spike, which hits the court so hard it pancakes on impact, zinging off into the wall. 

"... years," Iwaizumi finishes.

"Like that?" Kageyama shouts, oblivious, pointing to the other side of the net, where his spike landed.

Oikawa is perfectly, silently stunned.

Iwaizumi wasn't exaggerating. It took Oikawa years - _years_ to develop his spike. To understand it wasn't just strength, but form, too, and to polish it. And Kageyama is obviously pleased with his performance, but clearly doesn't grasp just how good it is. The team's attention is split between Oikawa and Kageyama, and Oikawa knows he has to shove himself out of this stupor, but it's hard to get the words off his tongue. 

"Like that," Oikawa agrees, stiffly. 

Kageyama smiles, taking it as praise. "One more??"

Oikawa throws him the ball, rougher than he probably should've - years. _Years_ he spent, hour after hour, bribing the third year setter to send him tosses before and after practice - Kageyama's spike is off because of it, but still powerful, and Oikawa steps back, letting Iwaizumi take over again.

Oikawa watches, trying to read the boy – was he faking, did he honestly improve _that_ fast? Oikawa doesn't see how it could be possible, but Kageyama moves with utter obliviousness, and even thanks Oikawa again for his help at the end of practice, bowing at the waist before running off. 

It doesn't take long for Oikawa to realize the truth, and he already knows the answer when he decides to confronts Kageyama, months later. 

"Are you stupid, Tobio-chan?"

"I, uh – " Kageyama drops the ball he's holding, then scrambles to grab it. The boy is not the most observant, but he must have noticed the growing tension between Oikawa and himself, spooking easily when Oikawa approaches now, instead of openly trusting. "There are… things I don't know?"

"Is that yes?"

"I – don't. Uhm," Kageyama says, his mouth screws up and he seems to be honestly trying to figure out the answer. 

"Tick-tock, tick-tock… I think your silence answers the question," Oikawa places his ball on Kageyama's head, and spins it sharply, ruffling his hair as it goes. Kageyama bats it away.

"Oi! Knock it off!" Iwaizumi slugs Oikawa in the shoulder as he passes, a specific warning in his eyes – he knows about Oikawa's rising irritation with this first year in particular.

"Sorry, sorry~" Oikawa says, looking at Iwaizumi as he pats the top of Kageyama's head with a flat, open palm in apology.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and keeps going. 

Oikawa doesn't mind, and truthfully, neither does Kageyama.

It had become obvious very, very quickly that Kageyama isn't capable of faking anything. The boy is guileless, to the point of stupidity - to the point of callousness, oblivious to how his intimidating strides in talent leave others on the team hopelessly in the dust. They've already had two of the more pragmatic first years quit after the practices shifted to serves, a notoriously difficult skill for first years. Oikawa watched the two weaker players trying to catch their breath on the sidelines, staring at Kageyama, who was unbothered by the gloomy atmosphere, enthusiastically nailing everything but a jump serve. Even if he had noticed, Oikawa doubts it would've even occurred to him to hold back for the sake of their comfort. For anyone's comfort. 

"I heard Coach Yoshino say he wanted to try you out as setter, Tobio-chan," Oikawa tells him, unable to share this fact with anyone else, not even Iwaizumi, because he can't hide the furious agony in his voice, and literally only Kageyama would be unable to hear it.

As expected, Kageyama misses Oikawa's tone and his eyes widen, inhaling deep in his excitement.

"But," Oikawa says, pretending to think. "I've never met a _stupid_ setter before."

"I – I'll learn!" Kageyama says, not insulted, undeterred, fingers flexing around the ball, a manic little smile on his face. 

Oikawa stares down at Kageyama – who will not remember this moment outside of the good news, while Oikawa will stay awake tonight, feeling it eating away at him. Terrified.

~

With the train's bench occupied, Oikawa has moved his gaze to the pole in the middle of the aisle, unlike Kageyama, who, _as always_ is staring openly at Oikawa. 

Oikawa knows by now it's just something Kageyama _does_ , he stares at Oikawa, and it's not an attempt to be rude or unsettling, or even really get Oikawa's attention. He just does it. The easiest option is to just ignore it, so Oikawa keeps staring at the pole. 

In a way, this is good. His mind had been spinning in fruitless, repetitive circles, which have been completely derailed by Kageyama's distracting presence, and Oikawa watches him out the corner of his eye, observing the changes in Kageyama since the last time they met, almost a year ago. There were signs Kageyama was evolving at Karasuno in ways Oikawa had not anticipated, at least not so quickly, and looking at him now, it seems it's finally happened. 

Kageyama has _settled_ into himself, no longer the grimacing, gangly thing he always transformed into off the court. Oikawa understands the regal comments from the alphas, from Kageyama's posture and expression. It's distinctly omegan, but with Kageyama's intimidating expression, it comes off as haughty, unmistakably _important_. Adding his tendency to speak only when necessary off the court, his aura becomes refined, mysterious elegance. 

A person would have to know Kageyama very well to read that intimidating stare as surly awkwardness. Have to know Kageyama as a junior high schooler, when he was a failure as an omega and a failure as a setter. Strong social skills are needed for both, according to most lines of thought. Where setters are meant to serve their spikers, Kageyama was a gangly, bossy, stubborn king. Where omegas are meant to be graceful swans, Kageyama was a gangly, bossy, stubborn ostrich. 

_And yet Iwaizumi kept his charm..._ Oikawa thoughts find their center again, back to the uselessly spinning circles. 

But, maybe that's it. 

Maybe truly and ridiculously, all the secret, stupid insecurities Oikawa carried from junior to high school were real – that he will be made obsolete, one centimeter at a time, by Kageyama Tobio. It was Kageyama who beat Shiratorizawa, who made it to nationals, and maybe next on the list is Iwaizumi's heart.

Oikawa laughs softly at what is easily the most indulgently dramatic answer he's come up with so far. 

"Do you have an alpha, Tobio-chan?"

Kageyama blinks once at the sudden question. "No."

"Mmm," Oikawa nods, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. "Do you have a crush on anyone? Betas? Alphas? In your classes? On your team?"

Kageyama blinks again.

"Of course not," Oikawa says for him. Of _course_ not, Tooru. "Must be nice." Oikawa imagines the bliss that must be Kageyama's utterly blank mind while off the court. Talking to Kageyama can be relaxing, the way Oikawa imagines talking to a pet would be. As long as it's not volleyball related, his expression stays judgment free and passive. "Remember asking me to teach you to serve?"

Now, Kageyama's expression darkens in suspicion. Waiting for a trap. "Yes."

"Iwa-chan got so mad at me for that," Oikawa sighs.

"Iwaizumi-san is always mad at you," Kageyama says, apparently without thinking because he immediately flinches, and diverts his gaze.

"True enough." Oikawa tips his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Kageyama would certainly know, Iwaizumi was probably his roughest with Oikawa in junior high, very hands on, shoving and punching. It was as though a switch had been flipped when they went to high school, where Iwaizumi suddenly took a step back, only smacking Oikawa when deliberately provoked. At the time, Oikawa had assumed it was because Iwaizumi had realized that Oikawa was an omega, and been annoyed by it – then hopeful.

Well, he'd certainly provoked Iwaizumi tonight. 

Oikawa frowns as he remembers Iwaizumi's seething face outside the club, his clenched fists, his hunched shoulders... He groans, and presses his palm against his forehead. "But I've never seen him angry like that."

Kageyama, helpfully, says nothing.

Iwaizumi's anger is always active, moving. Fixing, stopping, avenging. He's never – frozen. In anger. Oikawa frowns deeper, almost scowling, going over it again, feeling like a child with a puzzle, trying to piece it together, because there is something off, something working at the back of his mind that he can't quite place.

It's not that he's never seen Iwaizumi freeze up like that. First year – when all of Iwaizumi's spikes got blocked out, and he was almost pulled from the regular line up. When he had to give a speech in full English and still hadn't memorized it the night before the due date. When he broke his father's power drill. When his father got sick enough he had a three day stay in the hospital.

When he's _afraid._

Iwaizumi is.. afraid... of Oikawa? No. He's afraid of – what he was saying about Oikawa. 

Oikawa blinks. Afraid that Oikawa throws people away, and that Oikawa was – throwing _him_ away, _afraid_ , because – 

he – 

_loves –_

_Oikawa_. It's a realization that hits like a lightning bolt, adrenaline tingling up Oikawa's spine, to his finger tips. Oikawa had been so focused on his _own_ ridiculous insecurities, he had forgotten about _Iwaizumi's_ , and it all snaps together instantly – Oikawa's words must have seemed like a taunt – _definitely not my alpha!_ to Iwaizumi was outright rejection, not a question. The dancing was genuine interest. _"That's fun?"_ , the sick look on his face when Oikawa said yes.

Oikawa's mind is spinning, he goes over the night again with this theory in mind, and it fits, entirely, the only outlier being the texts, which.

Oikawa always knew didn't actually mean anything to Iwaizumi, the fucker.

Oikawa almost laughs out loud, feeling _brilliant_ for the epiphany, though he knows there's literally no one he could share it with who wouldn't respond with a blank, unsurprised, _'and...?'_

Except, of course, Iwaizumi.

"Is – Iwaizumi-san your alpha?"

Oikawa couldn't have been more surprised if it was the seat beneath Kageyama that asked. 

"Well, that would be telling," Oikawa says, in a far better mood than he was not five seconds ago. He's smiling, now, cocking his head to the side, feeling light and almost giddy from the sudden happiness, after months and months of slowly building doubts. "What makes you ask?"

"You asked about alphas," Kageyama says, glancing to the side. "Then you talked about Iwaizumi-san."

"Very observant," Oikawa says. 

Despite all the awkward years and insults and rivalry, the praise seems to actually mean something to Kageyama. He raises his eyebrows in surprise, sitting up slightly straighter. "And – "

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, feeling very generous and patient now, even with Kageyama.

"He… seemed like he would be," Kageyama finishes lamely, losing courage. 

"Mm," he says, looking out the window at the approaching station.

They're still in the heart of Osaka, the train stopping every few blocks, but the next stop will be the last before a long ride north. Oikawa taps his knee, and has just decided that he really can't wait for tomorrow, or even an hour. He's getting off at this stop and heading back to the bar and resolve this, when they stop and the doors open. 

" _Hey, I just met you!_ And this is crazy! But here's my number – " The voice is loud, the English is poor, but it still isn't enough to prepare Oikawa for the sudden collective shout from about eight alphas boarding the train – 

" _So call me maybe!!!_ "

It dissolves from there, the whole group shouting different parts of the song or just mumbling, which Oikawa ignores as he checks his phone for messages – of course none – and considers texting Iwaizumi to wait – 

" _You took you time with call! I took time with fall!_ "

"Shut up, Arai!" two of them shout at once, laughing.

Oikawa double takes. 

_Sarayashiki??_ Impossibly, the entire team is on the train, a little messier than they were at the club, half empty beer bottles in their hands. The group spots him at the exact same moment, freezing, then shouting over each other – 

"Tooru-san!!"

"Pretty setter-chan!!!"

How did they get to this stop so fast?? A glance at his phone shows they've been riding for at least twenty minutes. "You were just - _how_ – ?"

"We took a taxi to karaoke in Nishishinsaibashi." 

"And got kicked out after the first song," #3 glares at Arai.

Arai laughs, shameless as ever, pointing as he sings, " _Where you think you goin' baby!_ We can have our dance now, right?!" 

"Sorry," Oikawa says, waving them off, stepping out of the train. "I have other alphas to charm."

A collective, exaggerated groan of disappointment from the group.

"Well, Pretty setter-chan can go if he wants," says #7. "We got baby setter-chan to keep us company."

Oikawa stops, one foot on the platform, looking over his shoulder.

Kageyama glares up at the lot of them, but doesn't seem especially bothered, attempting to untangle the strings on his hoodie, which Oikawa only just notices is oversized, loose, and combined with his shorts from his uniform, is an enticing tease that the alphas clearly noticed, eyeing him up and down.

"Bye-bye, Tooru-san!!" another one laughs. The door chimes, a warning that it's about to close, instructing Oikawa to clear the doorway.

~

Kitagawa Daiichi lost nine third years at the end of last season, and four of them were regulars. 

Three promising first years ended up in the regular rotation: an alpha, beta, and omega. They're a matched set, too, all tall and lanky, with piercing eyes and dark hair. In a way it's pleasing, especially how they tend to stick together, huddled close during practices and meetings, though that might be out of nerves more than anything else.

The team is traveling home after an away game, and the bus is quiet, nearly everyone dropping into an exhausted sleep. Oikawa doesn't know how long he was asleep when he wakes up, slumped onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, the first years behind him very awake, and in the middle of what sounds like a very serious debate. 

"I only like girls," Kunimi is saying. "But alphas or betas or omages are fine. I don't care."

"Hmm," Kindaichi says, thoughtfully. "My father says you don't know which classification you like until you're older… but I think I'll just like alphas. They're easier." 

"Both of your parents are alphas?" Kageyama asks.

"Yeah," Kindaichi says. "What about you?"

"My mom's an alpha," Kageyama says.

"No, dumbass. What do you like? Boys or girls or what?"

"Oh," Kageyama says, and there's a beat of silence.

Kunimi snorts. "It's not a math problem. What do you _like_?"

"Uh..."

"I heard most omegas like alphas," Kindaichi says, using an especially authoritative voice. "So that's probably what you'll like."

Oikawa smiles into the collar of his jacket, not bothering to open his eyes. The first years are still relatively new, and somewhat tense around Oikawa, usually trying to impress him whenever they can, so this is the first time he's heard them speak together so candidly, and he can't help finding it cute.

"I already know what Tobio-kun likes," says a first year from across the aisle. "Volleyballs."

Kindaichi and Kunimi snicker lightly. "When he gets his first heat, I bet he's gonna make a whole nest out of them."

"I bet he hides volleyballs under his bed already!"

" _Shut up!_ " 

Oikawa finally opens his eyes, lifting himself from Iwaizumi's warmth and looking between the seats. 

Kageyama is glaring, face screwed up into an angry little scowl, flushing miserably.

"Oikawa-san!" Kindaichi says when he spots his stare. Oikawa winces at being caught, then slides up to his knees, turning to face them properly. Kageyama shifts his glare to the window, shoulders hitched up defensively. 

"Which do you like Tooru-san?" Oritsume, the first year across the aisle, asks. "Alphas?"

"Nope, all kinds!" Oikawa says, giving a peace sign. 

"Even other omegas?"

"Of course," he says, smiling, remembering some of the sweeter, cuter omegas he's met. 

"When did you realize you liked all of them?" Kindaichi asks. "How could you tell?"

"E-eh… " Oikawa glances across the aisle and sees the rest of the first years have woken up from all the fuss and are watching intently now, hungry for this bit of knowledge. He sweats, struggling to come up with an answer that will sound impressive and wise. Though – he glances down at Iwaizumi, who is still asleep, and will probably remain so unless a mach truck hits the bus. His answer will not be graded for accuracy, then. 

The truth isn't terribly helpful as far as Oikawa knows it – he actually realized his preferences very early on. He's never had a shortage of admirers, and he imagines it's a bit easier to figure out what one likes when they're being actively pursued. He knows this isn't particularly helpful for Kindaichi or the rest of them, though. 

"Your body already knows what you like," he finally says, finger in the air as he speaks. "You just have to pay attention to what it's telling you! Soon your biggest problem will be figuring out _who_ your mate is, not what they are!" Oikawa is feeling particularly pleased with this response, smiling to himself at the impressed gazes of his kohai, and his eyes happen to drift toward the window Kageyama is staring out. 

The defensive hitch of Kageyama's shoulders has relaxed. He's meeting Oikawa's gaze in the reflection, his face openly grateful, mouth going wobbly with it. It disarms Oikawa, and he sits down abruptly, re-buckling his seatbelt. 

As if – Oikawa had interrupted the conversation to rescue Kageyama from the teasing! Of course not! And if Kageyama got confused, then he really _is_ stupid, Oikawa tells himself furiously. Dumber than even Oikawa guessed! 

He tries to leave it there, but is unable to explain the heat on his own cheeks, or forget the look on Kageyama's face, and is in a terribly huffy mood the rest of the ride.

~

Oikawa gives a frustrated, agonized snarl, his very _soul_ screeching in annoyance, and turns around, stomping back onto the train. 

"Change your mind about that dance?!"

Oikawa ignores Arai, pointing at Kageyama. "Best case scenario, you just cost me two hours," he says, darkly. 

Kageyama glares back, affronted, as if he actually knows what Oikawa is talking about. 

"Same – to you!"

Oikawa rolls his eyes and sits down heavily, crossing his arms. 

A forty minute train ride north, sixty minute train ride east, assuming Iwaizumi is already on his way back to Chou. Oikawa feels like he's entitled to add another twenty, due to the sheer unfairness of the situation. 

The train is gaining speed, and though they're sticking to themselves on the other side of the car, the energy Sarayashiki gives off is palpable. A crackling, buzzing, annoying thing, filling the entire train, just the same as their scents, the kind of energy found in locker rooms and summer camp cabins – unsupervised, enthusiastic stupidity.

Well, Oikawa reasons, so annoyed he can feel his eyebrow twitching. He basically agreed to chaperone a group of high schoolers earlier tonight, so maybe it's a bit of karmatic justice that he finds himself in a train full of them regardless.

" _Hey. Arai._ "

It's a poorly hidden whisper - #6 is holding his gym bag, nodding down toward it, smiling suggestively. 

Arai peers inside, and gives a loud, amused guffaw. 

The rest of the team starts gathering, huddling around the bag, snickering to each other and – disconcertingly – giving repeated glances up at Oikawa and Kageyama. 

Oikawa has pulled out his phone and is scrolling, bobbing his foot, trying to give the impression of being unconcerned with whatever giddy business is happening over there. More alcohol, maybe. Drugs? Porn?

Whatever it is, if this had been a normal train with only few more stops, Oikawa knows his presence would've been enough to discourage any stupid alpha rowdiness, but as the train continues on, and on, he can practically smell their excitement about ramping up, growing bolder, and it's only a matter of time before one of them says something stupid - 

"Kageyama Tobio," says #3, suddenly. 

Kageyama slides his eyes from where he'd been staring at Oikawa – _again_ – to the speaker. 

"… Yeah?"

"You got an alpha?"

Kageyama puffs out his cheeks slightly, obviously annoyed with the same question twice in one night. "No."

"Thought so," #3 says. "No self-respecting alpha would let their omega run around on a court like you did today."

"Hey, don't be rude," Arai says. "I think it was an honor to play against Tooru-san's kohai." He makes a show of bowing at the waist to Kageyama, who stares, both unimpressed and confused. "Too bad it was such a short game!"

Kageyama's eyes flit over the rest of them, still impassive. "You'll have to practice harder if you want to get to a third set next year."

The entire team's expression darkens, and Oikawa has to bite his cheek to keep the smirk from his face, which is imperative, because, as he guessed, Kageyama's eyes slide right back to Oikawa. 

"Hey, Tobio-kun," #6 says, in a much friendlier voice. "I got a gift for my omega when I was in the city. What do you think?"

Oikawa watches with building annoyance as #6 approaches, crossing the unofficial no-man's land that had existed between the two omegas on one side, and the cluster of alphas on the other. He holds open his bag for Kageyama to peer inside. 

"Uh." Both his tone and expression are nothing but blank confusion, which is _hilarious_ to #6.

"Think she'll like it?" he asks, shaking with laughter, while #8 comes over, followed by #2.

"It's.. good," Kageyama says, woodenly, eyes tracking the other two as they move closer, and they have to be third years. Like the rest of Sarayashiki, they're impressively tall and solid, and it feels like #8 is making a show of this, taking up as much space as possible when he lifts his foot up, resting it on the bench beside him. Now Kageyama's getting a little nervous. Oikawa slowly locks his phone, tucking it away, watching.

"Wanna touch it?" #2 asks.

' _Touch it_ ' is suggestive, blatantly so, enough to ping on even Kageyama's radar. He stands, backing away, but #2 and #8 predicted this and he bumps into their bulk, trapped. Oikawa is already on his feet, recognizing the deliberate move they're pulling, and it's telling him that this isn't a game, and it needs to be stopped.

"What, you don't want _my_ opinion?"

The alphas glance up in delighted surprise when Oikawa approaches, and part for him without a fight. Oikawa shoves Kageyama lightly as he passes, pushing him just a step or two away from the alphas. He keeps his expression smooth and unbothered, but this becomes difficult to maintain when he glances into the bag and sees what's inside, the thing Kageyama had been unable to identify – lumpy and obscene, and he's not surprised Kageyama hadn't recognized it, the knot at the end is as big as a fist, and it's so long it looks more like a fat, floppy sword. 

A dildo.

Oikawa blinks, rapidly, can feel the blush on his face, and can't look away long enough to see the alphas cracking up at his reaction. 

Oikawa chokes on a forced laugh, unable to get it out.

Oikawa knows how to work people. He knows how to work alphas in particular, but looking at the manic excitement in the team's faces as they see his discomfort, he knows he's not going to be able to redirect this. 

The realities of his situation hit him one at a time: He misjudged. Terribly. Looking past their ages, their teams, their schools - Oikawa is outnumbered by alphas significantly larger than himself, unable to escape for the better part of an hour, with no real help. Even sober and on the court, getting Sarayashiki to see him or Kageyama as anything other than prey would be a tedious, uphill battle, and an outright impossibility now.

Oikawa can turn into the tailspin, though, use the momentum already working against him - _carefully_ , not too much, nothing to escalate the situation. 

"Tch," he says, so unimpressed it's almost playful, crossing his arms, raising his chin. "Typical disgusting alphas."

They perk at his tone. The game it promises. 

"Apologize to my kohai, and behave yourself."

"Sorry," they laugh. "Sorry, Tobio-kun!"

Kageyama is staring again, clearly wanting to ask what that was all about, what the thing in the bag was, but he barely starts the question before he yelps in surprise, "Wha – _hey!_ "

"If you're not into toys," says #7, a quiet, unassuming alpha with a scent so faint Oikawa hadn't even noticed him approaching, is directly behind Kageyama, hand on his wrist. "Maybe you'll be more into the real deal instead."

#7 tugs Kageyama's hand toward his crotch, and Oikawa's eyes widen at the vulgarity, while Kageyama explodes, of course, yanking himself free, shoving #7 away. Oikawa can only watch, as, like a house of cards collapsing, Kageyama stumbles into #8, an especially large first year who smells like fresh tobacco, and isn't one to waste an opportunity, apparently. He braces Kageyama with a hand on the ass, and a good, hard squeeze. 

Oikawa has to jump back to avoid getting smacked when Kageyama flails, shoving his balled up fists into #8's jaw – more of a shove than a punch – scrambling away. 

That gets the entire group's attention, and they're rushing at once from the other side of the car, shouting protests. It takes Oikawa a moment to realize it's aimed _at_ #8 himself, and there's real concern on their faces. 

"Calm down!!" 

"Stay cool man," #2 says, "He's just scared – "

There's a lot of shoving and grabbing, but the other alphas fail to get #8 under control. He has Kageyama by his collar, yanks him back, flinging him into the wall with a disconcertingly hollow _thud_.

"Wanna try that again? _Omega?_ "

Kageyama gasps once, air knocked out of his chest. The sound of his desperate gasping inhale is awful, awful, and Oikawa's fairly sure he's more concerned about the situation than Kageyama himself when he glares, looking manic, and wheezes out, " _Yes!_ " 

Alphas don't hit omegas. They just don't. Shoving Kageyama against the wall is one thing, but no part of Oikawa is expecting the _CRACK_ when #8 swings, a full, solid punch.

" _Dude!_ " #6 moans in shocked disapproval, and Kageyama's head flies to the side. A beat later and blood starts dripping down Kageyama's upper lip, nose bloody. The alpha tries to move in close again, and Kageyama still does not relent, putting both hands on #8's face, shoving him away with all his strength, breathing hard, spitting out something angry between clenched teeth. When #8's hand starts creeping up Kageyama's shirt again, Kageyama pulls back his fist and slams it into #8's throat.

#8 chokes, dropping to one knee, gasping for air.

The other alphas take a step back, apparently realizing there's no saving Kageyama at this point. #3, who apparently shares the same sort of cruel, vindictive streak as #8, grabs Kageyama, throws him to the floor of the train, knee on his back, grinding his heel into the back of Kageyama's hand. "Wonder how well you'd set with broken fingers?"

It's the very specific nature of the threat that makes Oikawa realize that he's actually still on the train, watching this happen, and that he has frozen completely.

" _Tobio-chan_ ," Oikawa says, over the ruckus. "Come here."

He pointedly does not yell, and it works, silence falling as everyone turns to look at him.

Oikawa ignores them, crossing his arms and focusing on Kageyama, who is panting for breath, expression frantic, terrified, blood pouring freely from his nose and smeared across his lips and chin, face pressed into the dirty floor of the train.

Eventually, #3 relents. He takes a knee off Kageyama's back, his foot off his hand. Kageyama scrambles to his feet, cradling his wounded fingers.

"Oikawa-san."

It's a quiet, uncertain, terrified question, and it's ridiculous. It's ridiculous! The open look on Kageyama's face, looking for or direction or rescue in Oikawa's. Oikawa remembers Kageyama _ridiculously_ seeking out advice, not long ago, about how to handle his freak quick. How he'd been certain Oikawa could solve his problem. This is that, the same unthinking trust, though a more desperate version, and Oikawa tightens his jaw, doing his best to ignore it, because of course it's annoying, and sincerity will only be a painful distraction at the moment.

Oikawa makes a show of tsking at the bloody mess on Kageyama's face. "Give me a towel."

When none of them react, he raises an eyebrow at Arai. Arai is quick, stumbling in his hurry, reaching for his gym bag, pulling out an extra towel and handing it over.

"Here, Tooru-san."

Oikawa takes it, and dabs the blood on Kageyama's face, sees the wound is not just a bloody nose, there's two sluggishly bleeding cuts from the actual impact of the punch itself, on his upper lip and on the left side of his nose. 

#8 did not hold back.

"Can you count, Tobio-chan?" he asks quietly enough that only Kageyama can hear.

Kageyama stiffens.

"Did you really think you were going to beat them all?" Oikawa asks. "When I've never even seen you beat Chibi-chan?"

"I _habe_!" Kageyama says, voice coming out thick and weird because of his bloody nose, which makes him look especially feral, and especially desperate. But he drops the argument there, closing his eyes in furious humiliation as Oikawa tips his head back. 

"The car's not going to stop for another forty minutes," Oikawa reminds him. "We're stuck."

"So?"

"So," Oikawa says, voice still cool, and soft. "They want to fuck us."

Kageyama recoils, expression contorting hard enough to renew the bleeding from his nose. He winces, and Oikawa grabs a clean portion of the towel, and tips Kageyama's head back again.

"Don't fight them," Oikawa says, watching the alphas over his shoulder. Outside of #3 and #8, they look guilty, rubbing at the back of their necks and scuffing at the floor, but the restless eagerness is still there, strong as ever. The remorse is not going to last a full ride.

Kageyama has been thoroughly spooked by Oikawa's words and is staring, terrified. Amusingly, Oikawa finds himself going into game mode in response, considering the situation with that steel, impartial core running through him. The train is a court. The enemy is alphas. Through some bizarre twist of fate and some bad decisions, Oikawa and Kageyama are on the same team. The two of them will be overpowered and crushed if they try to fight one on one. They need a different strategy.

"Just follow your senpai's lead, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, voice chipper, tapping him on the nose again, gently. "O.K.?"

"Is he okay?" #5 asks.

"What do you think!" Oikawa says, dramatically shaking the bloody cloth in their direction. "I'm definitely not going to play if you're breaking my toys."

Arai and #2 both slug #8's shoulders, angrily. 

"Sorry," he mutters. 

"I'm not," #3 says, watching Kageyama with a little sneer.

"You're just embarrassed he got over your block," #7 says.

"And got in all those dumps."

Ah. That's a familiar frustration – the sound of the ball hitting the ground, just out of reach, looking up and seeing your opponent staring down their nose at you. Oikawa's felt it multiple times, and when it happens, over, and over, and over, in one game it can get nearly murderous. He wonders how much more intense it must have been for #3 to look up and see smaller, _omega_ , second year Kageyama's haughty expression, and suddenly, his threat to break Kageyeama's fingers isn't actually that surprising.

Can he keep #3 from Kageyama? 

Oikawa considers the rest of Sarayashiki. He's fairly sure they wouldn't support the violence, but they were unable to stop both #3 and #8 from getting too rough before. #3 is still focused on Kageyama with more intensity than anyone else in the car, Oikawa doubts a distraction will work – he clearly feels personally slighted by the game. No, Oikawa decides, he can't. #3 will almost certainly get his hands on Kageyama again before they get off the train.

"Why don't you apologize, Tobio-chan?"

"For _whad_?" Kageyama demands, angrily.

"For not knowing your place as an omega!" #3 says.

Kageyama looks to Oikawa in confusion. 

"Yes," Oikawa says. "That."

"I – sorry?" he says, but it sounds more like a question.

"We're both sorry," Oikawa says. "For disrespecting your game."

"Y-yeah," Kageyama's voice is barely more than a grunt, but he bows slightly. "Sorry."

#3 considers them, and after a beat looks pacified, nodding back gruffly. Oikawa feels a small, uncomfortable knot of tension he hadn't fully been aware of forming – when he watched Kageyama's bloody face slammed into the floor of the train – loosen just a bit. Oikawa assumes #3 will do something else before the ride is over but, at least – at least, Oikawa's reasonably sure it won't be that. 

Obviously, #8 is the biggest concern after that – he seems cowed for now, but Oikawa doubts it will stick, and doubts there is anything he'll be able to do to prevent that. At best, he's someone to keep an eye on.

Next in intensity is Arai, but he seems entirely focused on Oikawa, and he can deal with that himself as it comes. 

#6, the one with the bag, seems to think this is entertaining, nothing more than a nice night out – seems to be how most of Sarayashiki sees it – which could go either way, but Oikawa thinks will be easy to redirect. 

Oikawa takes a breath, shakes off his nerves, and it's Iwaizumi's sure, encouraging voice in his head, _Don't mind, don't mind!_ He can get through this.

It's that #7 approaching first though, something about him seems so _mild_ , even down to his light, powdery, floral scent, that he keeps escaping Oikawa's attention. 

Kageyama grabs his own wrist and holds it to his chest as #7 gets nearer, backing away in a probably unconscious movement behind Oikawa. 

"Hey, sorry about that idiot over there," #7 says, smiling placidly, nodding toward #8. "How can I make it up to you?"

"You can _go away_ ," Kageyama snarls. 

"Tsk," says #2, sadly. "He's all timid now. Good job, dumbass."

"Hey," #7 says to Kageyama, "Are you still wearing your uniform under that? Cause I'd really like to see it again, it's super cute."

Kageyama blanches, yanking the hoodie down further. Though it's optional, both Oikawa and Kageyama wear the traditional omega uniform, which is just a bit tighter than the standard alpha and beta one, and sleeveless. It's nothing particularly special but some alphas lose their minds for it.

It looks like #7 is one of them, eyeing the slip of Kageyama's shorts that he can see, just below Kageyama's hoodie.

"What can we do to get you out of this hoodie, huh?" #6 asks, and Oikawa's arm flies out, blocking Kageyama from them as much as he can, which is, of course, not at all. 

"How about you?"

Oikawa jumps, startled, so focused on #7 that he hadn't noticed Arai sliding up beside him. He positions himself close, nearly chest to chest with Oikawa, and Oikawa is forced to take a step back, a step away from both Arai and Kageyama.

Arai grins, following, arm planting on the wall above Oikawa's head.

"What can we do to get you out of those jeans?"

It's an act of will to keep his tone teasing rather than mocking - resentment is restless under his skin. It's not often Oikawa is physically outmatched, at least so completely. He doesn't mind playing a role when he wants to, but being _forced to_ sets his teeth on edge. "You couldn't afford it, I'm afraid."

Arai bites his lip, arousal visibly traveling through him. "But it's gonna be hard to make you feel good with all this stuff in the way," he says, rubbing the side of Oikawa's jacket between his fingers. 

"Mm-hm," Oikawa says, unimpressed. "And what exactly would you do to make me feel _good_?"

"Fuck, Oikawa," Arai laughs. "You're so fucking hot. I'm gonna make you feel so good, it's gonna last all night – "

Oikawa scoffs. "Just how far away do you think the next stop is?"

He realizes the misstep as soon as it's out of his mouth. 

"Then we better hurry," Arai smiles, boldly moving in close, like he had on the dance floor, forcing his thigh between Oikawa's, forcing him up onto the balls of his feet, his large hands moving to the button of Oikawa's jeans and on reflex Oikawa grabs his hand, stilling it.

Arai raises an eyebrow. "Is Tooru-san shy?"

Oikawa licks his lips, staring down. It could ruin the game, it could give up the control Oikawa's been given, the dangling carrot the alphas have agreed to perform for.

"I, uh," Oikawa says, hating how childish his voice sounds. "I don't really want to... "

"Hey, that's fine," Arai says, almost gentle. "Trust me, you'll want it by the time I'm through."

Oikawa grimaces. Well, it wasn't as if he actually thought it would work. It's an embarrassing loss of composure, though, and he feels his cheeks heat from hearing his own weak, stupid words, far more than the thick fingers trying to get past the band of his pants.

"Come on," Arai says, cajoling, running big hands up Oikawa's sides, coming to rest on his hips, pressing his thumbs in the dips there greedily. "We can keep the zipper up, eh? Just the button, Tooru-san."

It's not like it's an actual choice. The next time Arai goes for the fastens of his pants, Oikawa allows his hand to be pushed away, and Arai undoes the button.

" _Mmmm!_ " the noise is coming more out of Arai's throat than mouth, an undignified and excited moan. "Black! Black, elegant panties!"

"Tobio-kun's are white!" one of them shouts back, and Oikawa's heart goes up to his throat, leaning hard to the side to see around Arai – 

#2 has Kageyama in his lap, holding him there in a sort of hug, trapping Kageyama's arms. Despite being told not to fight, he clearly did, and Oikawa can see the beginning of what will be a nasty black eye, the slit of Tobio's left eye glassy, just starting to swell, his lip bleeding. 

He's managed to keep his hoodie, but his shorts are hanging off one ankle. 

Oikawa stares, until he's distracted by Arai's hand, sliding down the back of his pants, squeezing his ass once before sliding between the cheeks. Oikawa's jaw clenches, and he feels a second set of hands – not Arai – he looks over his shoulder. #5. Both of his hands are sliding up Oikawa's shirt.

"Let's show your senpai your cute panties," #7 says, Oikawa stops squirming at that, looking up again to see the alpha wink, and lift one of Kageyama's thighs, spreading his legs. Kageyama kicks wildly, but can't cover the simple white underwear that the alphas are so fascinated by. 

" _Nnng._ Smells so good!! I could just drink it up!!" #7 says, bending down between Kageyama's thighs, opening his mouth like he's about to lick Kageyama through the fabric, and Kageyama freezes completely, eyes blanked out in horror.

" _Oi!!!_ " Oikawa says, instinctively, and to his relief #7 stops and looks over his shoulder. "I- I didn't give you permission for that, did I?" 

"Permission – "

"No, no," Oikawa says, wagging his finger, not hearing it. "That's _my_ k-kohai, and you're going to ruin all my work."

"You mean he's a virgin?"

"He's –" Oikawa's breath catches. He grabs at #5's wrist at his chest, where fingers working at his nipples have become a distraction he can't ignore anymore, circling then flicking in a way that's sending strange energy through his gut, to his crotch. He yanks the hand down, but it immediately starts traveling back up, undeterred, and Oikawa winces, this time from Arai. He's pressing his thighs together, but Arai's fingers are still pushing between his legs, rubbing, prodding, and he shudders. "He's a g-good boy. Right Tobio-chan? Now – " _ah_. He clears his throat. "Come back to your senpai."

He's released slowly, and Kageyama stumbles away, kicking his shorts off and to the side.

"Are you alright?" Kageyama asks quietly, which is odd, until Oikawa realizes his eyes are shut and he's panting. Fuck. He's – he's getting slick, already. It's dripping onto Arai's fingers, and he's spreading it all around the sensitive areas between his legs, sloppy and sticky and wet. Oikawa ducks his head, bracing himself, trying to gather his thoughts. He's done this to himself, he's imagined others doing it, primarily Iwaizumi, but it's never actually happened, and he never – knew – what it actually felt like. Fuck. It's good.

"I'm good."

"He's _very_ good," #5 says. "You wanna know how good?"

"No," Arai says. His finger is at Oikawa's slick entrance, and he slides _in_ , smiling that wide, shit eating grin. "Let his senpai show him."

"Yeah! Let's see you _work_ on your kohai!" #7 says.

Oikawa grimaces, trying to ignore the fingers on him, _in_ him. Kageyama is staring, mouth a terrified, pinched up line, tugging uncomfortably at his hoodie, dried blood smeared on his face, one eye swelling, the other wide in fear. The choice is to let the alphas who did all that touch him more, or touch him himself. 

Fine. Oikawa cups the back of Kageyama's head and brings him in closer. Kageyama doesn't fight, at all, allowing his head to tip back, his lips limp and unresisting when Oikawa presses his own against them.

It's bloody. Kageyama's lips are chapped, and quiver in fear beneath his. It's a nightmare, a parody, but the train goes silent, the hands on Oikawa grow still, as the alpha's watch, entranced.

Fine. 

Oikawa tilts his head to deepen the kiss, hears an excited swear from the alphas watching, and Kageyama grabs Oikawa's shirt at his shoulders, bracing himself and giving off a high, confused little whine, only slightly audible in the near silent car. He doesn't pull away, though, and opens his mouth, slightly. His split lip bleeds into Oikawa's mouth.

Slowly, the hands between Oikawa's legs start teasing again, pushing in, Oikawa ignores it until he can't, until his hips are rocking back for it, for the fingers hitting – fuck, oh fuck – hitting _there_. Oikawa breaks the kiss, biting his lip, ducking his head onto Kageyama's shoulder.

" _Fuck_."

"Oikawa-san?" Kageyama asks, concerned, his grip on Oikawa's shirt tightening, hands splaying out over the back of his neck protectively.

"Hey, why isn't he presenting?" #5 asks, pouting, his fingers wet with spit as he continues to rub Oikawa's nipples, a sort of maddening, teasing pleasure.

"Huh. I donno. He's definitely into it," Arai says, and pulls his fingers free from Oikawa's hole, showing off the slick to the rest of them.

That – the smell, probably, Oikawa's unique scent, unmistakably aroused – is what finally makes Kageyama realize what's being done to Oikawa, the extent of it. He leans back in shock, blinking as a blush rises quickly up his face. Humiliation is a dark, rotting weed in Oikawa's gut, the roots digging deep, coiling around all his important parts, squeezing tighter at the smooth, warm slide of slick dripping down his thigh, soaking his pants.

But it is a good question. 

Oikawa isn't sure why he isn't presenting. An omega reacts to an alpha's interest, can't help it anymore than an alpha to an omega's heat. Sometimes if an omega has already mated and has an especially strong bond it won't happen, but Oikawa never mated with Iwaizumi. Maybe it's the fact that there's _eight_ alphas here, too many for his body to process? He can barely make sense of all the smells, let alone hook on to one.

"We'll just have to make them feel even better," #6 decides, as easy as that, wrapping his arms around Kageyama's middle. "Let's see if we can get you as wet as Tooru-san."

"Hey – " Kageyama protests, but it's cut off as #7 and #2 step in, helping restrain Kageyama, and blocking him from view. 

Oikawa gives an instinctive bid for freedom, but Arai and #5 have him, #6 joining in, sliding off Oikawa's jacket, but with the speed Arai is working his insides, thrusting in and out in a very distinct, primal rhythm, it makes it very hard for Oikawa to care about that, or his jeans, finally yanked down his legs, his wet underwear pulled off and immediately pocketed by #6, humming as he does. 

Arai has more room now, his fingers move harder, faster, and Oikawa moans before he can stop himself, arching his back as he loses the ability to hold himself upright. #6 braces his weight, laughing lightly. 

"Cute, Tooru-san."

"Hey, omegas have a better sense of smell than alphas, right?" he asks.

Oikawa doesn't answer, thighs shaking from the effort to keep from spreading them.

"Can you smell it, then? Tobio-kun?"

Can he? It's hard. There are a lot of alphas. Oikawa blinks, scenting a new one for the first time – musky and raw, almost sour. It's #4, who sits alone, stone-faced in the corner, arms wrapped around his legs, obviously trying to ignore the madness around him. And then. Yes. Pears. Kageyama.

Kageyama's aroused. #6 steps aside, and flicks #7, so Oikawa can get a view. He's finally lost his hoodie, but is still in his uniform top, underwear and socks. No new injuries that Oikawa can spot, for once, but his face is a brighter red than it's been all night. 

"Ah – ah – " Kageyama pants, voice pitched high in fear, head hanging, face obscured by his hair. Fingers are moving busy beneath his uniform, at his chest and between his legs, in quick, deliberate, repeated motions, and Kageyama sounds like he's in the middle of painful work out, sweating and shaking, and whining. His lips are pressed together in a shaking, wobbly line, and there's the occasional spasm against the arms holding him, still fighting, before finally tensing all over with a sob, hips snapping as he comes. The alphas keep fondling him, and Kageyama cries out openly, tugging his arms and legs, trying to wiggle free.

Finally, the hands at his wrists let go, and Kageyama stumbles forward on wobbling legs, but makes it one step before he simply drops to the floor, onto his ass, legs giving out. 

It's quiet for a long beat, then Kageyama sniffles once, the noise especially thick because of the blood. His eyes are covered by his forearm, but Oikawa can see the way his mouth trembles, his other hand in a tight, furious fist. Tears start streaming down his face, cutting into the dried blood, and Oikawa finds himself growing - cold at the sight. 

"Okay," he says, trying to fight free of #6 and Arai's grip, voice shaking with manic anger. "That was fun. So let's just take it easy for the rest of the ride."

That is not going to happen. He had expected to see the same sort of remorse on the alpha's faces from #8's attack, but instead there's aroused, hot interest as they stare at Kageyama's broken, shaking form on the ground, the way he's starting to hunch over on himself, still crying. 

#6 smiles, a predatory thing, and he laughs. "No way," he says. "Not before we make you sound like that, too, Tooru-san!"

"I want to see him come, I want to smell it..."

They get him down on his knees as well, pushing him forward onto his hands, and Oikawa braces, expecting something bigger than fingers, now, but instead, Arai just spreads open his cheeks. 

"Check it out," Arai says, showing off. "It's so tight, I think Tooru-san might have been a virgin..."

" _Seriously?_ " #3 says, as Arai goes back to fingering Oikawa's insides, deliberately hitting his most sensitive spot, over and over, rubbing in short, teasing circles, sending pleasure through Oikawa like sharp little waves. 

_Get it over with, just get it over with_ , Oikawa closes his eyes tight, gasping in deep, desperate breaths. He knows what they want to hear, so he lets his mouth hang open, latching onto those pleasant shivers for inspiration and moans freely.

"Tooru-san," Arai says, nearly in awe. "Make that sound for me again? It's so nice - "

It's not actually that hard to do - the pleasure has been building for a while, his body is frustrated, his cock is fat and needy between his legs, and he starts to rock back into Arai's movements, wishing for the petting on his chest to come back, something – anything – to tip him over. 

"Yeah, fuck, look at him move, look at his hips," #2 is panting, and when Oikawa looks up, he sees the alpha has his cock out, stroking it as he watches the show. "No way he's a virgin, he's fucking made for this - "

A beer bottle breaks. 

The sound is loud enough that everyone stops, looking across the train, where – Kageyama has been dragged, and is now kneeling between fucking #3 and #8. 

The sight makes the twisted knot of arousal in Oikawa's gut cool instantly, and he takes in the scene – the dildo from #6's bag is laying on the ground, and Kageyama has fallen backward onto his hands, looking terrified. 

"If this'll make it easier for you," #8 is saying, kneeling down to grab Kageyama by the shirt, holding the broken bottle up to Kageyama's uninjured eye. "You really wanna risk losing _both_ eyes?"

"What are you _doing?_ " #2 asks, sounding exhausted from their behavior. 

#3 grips Kageyama's hair angrily, jerking him back, then forward. "I really wanted him to suck my cock. I was thinking about _the whole game_!! Each time he got a dump…" #3 moans like he's talking about a favorite snack. "Watching him choke on my cock."

"You know you can't do that," Arai says.

"Yeah, so we got the dildo."

Kageyama's eye is open wide, but staring forward at nothing. Apparently, he had the resisted the idea, but this time he takes the long, obscene piece of plastic passively when they hand it to him, then stares down at it blankly. 

"Kiss it," #3 instructs.

A long, long pause, then Kageyama brings the thing up to his mouth, staring up at the alpha as he does, leaving a short, chaste kiss. 

"No, no – _make out_ with it. Put it in your mouth, lick it."

"Suck it down, omega."

Kageyama opens his mouth and takes it in as deep as he can, which isn't much at all. 

He starts licking up the sides of it, staring up at #3 as he goes, and the sight is obviously thrilling him, first palming his dick through his shorts, then reaching down inside to milk his dick roughly.

"Fuck, just like that, omega," #3 says. His breath hitches, and then he's scrambling to yank his shorts down, coming in long, thick stripes, painting Kageyama's face. 

Kageyama freezes in surprise, blinking.

"Don't stop," #8 grunts, jerking his own dick, and Kageyama slowly starts licking again.

"Ito's strong, but he always chokes," #6 says, suddenly, and utterly at random, distracting Oikawa from the scene.

"Our practices start a four am too, it's rough as hell. One omega on our team, a pitch server," #6's voice is strange, and each additional word more bizarre than the last. "Egg laying. Are all your conversations like this, Tooru?"

Oikawa looks up at #6, utterly confused, and sees him holding – his phone. _His_ phone, _Oikawa's_ phone. 

Texts. He's reading texts, Iwaizumi's – _replying to the messages from August._

"Your boyfriend is worried, did you get in a fight?"

"S-stop," Oikawa says, lips feeling numb. Iwaizumi. It's a slap to the face, Iwaizumi, real life, this is really happening - 

"We should talk. I'm sorry, Tooru," #6 reads out loud. "I walked the rest of the team to train, I'll wait at the Osaka station for a few hours. Are you there? Are you alright? I apologize for ignoring you, so you better not be acting shitty and ignoring me. Are you alright? I get it if you're mad, just respond."

Oikawa's chest is heaving, faster and faster, mind spinning. Iwaizumi, Iwaizumi - 

"Stop it!" Kageyama shouts from the other side of the car, which is odd, until Oikawa realizes he's crying, silent, full, fat tears, down his cheeks. 

"Yeesh, it goes on and on," #6 says, scrolling through the messages. "It must have been some fight! He's really worried. Let's send him some pictures so he knows you're okay."

"S- stop, stop – don't – " It's the first time he's begged, and of course it is ignored. Oikawa feels like he's going to drown in his panic and ties to grab for his phone, but he doesn't have a chance, #6 easily holding it out of his reach. He backs down as soon as he sees #6 is aiming the camera at him, ducking his head.

"Come on, Tooru-san! Give your boyfriend a smile!!!" Arai says. "Let him see those pretty brown eyes."

Oikawa refuses, so they grab him by the hair, forcing his head up. He thinks he should fight, maybe, but his body is coiled, frustrated agony, Arai's fingers are still in his _ass_ , and his mind is – a screaming, broken wail, and he drops his head into his arms as soon as they release him. 

"Oh, we should send him a picture from back here, right?" #5 says, spreading Oikawa's cheeks again.

"Let's get some come on his back first, though."

"Stop," Oikawa says again, trying to jerk away, not caring how foolish it looks because he can't – he can't – this can't – _Iwaizumi_ can't, not _ever_ – 

But they are bigger, and stronger, and have no problems holding him down, and when they decide they should have video of him _coming_ \- "Look at how hard he is, we don't want his boyfriend to think we're neglecting him!" - they have no problems working his body up again, toying with the sensitive spots they learned before, licking in generous swipes at his chest, working away at his hole, stroking his dripping cock. 

Movements a little angry, Arai takes his fingers out of Oikawa, spreads his cheeks again, and _licks_.

" _S-sto_ – oh my god," Oikawa gasps, head dropping to the floor, tangling his fingers in his hair. The next lick has him moaning, long and loud. Oh god, it's good, _good, good, good_ , that's all that repeats through his head, down his spine, his whole body humming, the energy building according to Arai's tongue in his ass, working away at his prostate, and Oikawa shakes, digging his fingers into his scalp and wailing as he comes, spraying against the floor of the train.

It's exhausting, if it were any other place, any other time, with anything other than a pack of rapists around him, Oikawa would've passed out, but he keeps his eyes open, dully, as his chest heaves and he gasps for air. Holy shit. 

"Wow," #3 says, sounding genuinely impressed.

"Hey, I wanna see something," #2 says, and grabs Kageyama, manhandling him across the car, to his knees beside Oikawa, then shoves him forward, onto his hands, and another pair of hands hoists Oikawa's ass up, into the air. Oikawa doesn't have to look over his shoulder to know they're looking at his hole too, comparing.

"Man," #7 sighs. "Nothing like a pretty pink omega hole."

"Look, Oikawa's still twitching," #2 laughs, delighted.

"I'm not surprised, it sounds like his soul flew out of his body," #6 says. "I think this is a good collection to send your boyfriend, how about you? I added some of Tobio-kun, too, since we didn't get to give you a facial."

#6 actually bends down to show Oikawa the phone but literal nausea builds in Oikawa at the idea, and he looks away.

"I guess it'll be a surprise for both of you, then," #6 says, kindly. 

"Holy shit, we're almost at the station!" #7 says, looking up at the car display. The alphas start getting ready, pulling on their jackets and gathering their belongings, wiping down their hands and crotches as best they can.

"You know, you're lucky to have such a pretty senpai, Tobio-kun," Arai says, almost conversationally, wiping at his chin. "Don't you think?"

Kageyama makes a quiet, hiccup of a noise.

"What's the prettiest part of your senpai?" #5 asks.

A hand goes under Oikawa's chin, forcing his head up for Kageyama to see. Oikawa watches the conflict play out in Kageyama's bloody, beaten face – confusion, pain, and finally, pure childish embarrassment.

"H-hair," Kageyama mumbles.

"Good choice! I like his hair, too," says #5, combing through Oikawa's hair with gentle fingers. "What do you like about it?"

He mutters something but all Oikawa can hear is _soft._

"You're right! Very soft. Want to touch?"

Kageyama shakes his head no, almost violently. When he breathes in again it's shaky, like he's about to start crying again.

"How about you, Tooru-san?"

Oikawa looks up at #5, who is smiling, enjoying this.

"What's your favorite part of your kohai?"

Oikawa looks, searching Kageyama's face for – for something he can't quite name, immediately, but something he knows is there, it has to be.

~

"Was that really your best? I thought you were a genius!"

The gym is empty except Oikawa and Kageyama, and the balls scattered all across the back wall. On the other side of the court, Kageyama climbs up to his feet, and takes up his receiving stance again. He nods.

"Get ready, this one is going to be fast!" Oikawa says, tossing high. "Too fast for Tobio-chan~!"

He _slams_ the ball down, hurling it across the gym. Kageyama dives – close. Very close. 

Oikawa could take it easy and send the serves directly to him, help him strengthen his form, but Kageyama already commits too hard to his stance. Oikawa grabs the next ball out of the cart, bouncing it lazily as he waits for Kageyama to get to his feet. Committing to a firm receive is good once you're in the path of the serve, but until then you have to be loose. Fluid. Flexible. It's something your body has to learn, through habit, hard work, and repetition, and so Oikawa is deliberately landing the serves in the least convenient spot, sending Kageyama driving from one corner to another. 

"You're definitely not getting this one, Tobio-chan!" Oikawa grunts as he forces his fist into the ball, visualizing it passing through – the ball flies strong and sure, hitting the ground less than a second before Kageyama's hand.

" _This_ is what you meant by helping Kageyama with his receive?" 

Iwaizumi is glaring from the door, taking in the scene. All he can see from there is the back of Kageyama's head, his stumbling feet, his scrambling, sweaty, overworked body diving all around the court hopelessly, the sweat dripping down the back of his shirt.

"What else would you call it?" Oikawa says, and serves, again. Kageyama dives – _connecting!_ but sloppy. The ball flies right, off into the stands. "Tsk. You know, I don't think you're really trying at all."

"I call it being a piece of shit, Oikawa," Iwaizumi says. "This is too advanced for a first year. Kageyama, go – "

Oikawa is rolling his eyes, getting ready to defend himself, but he's beaten to it.

"No!" Kageyama lifts himself from the floor to face Iwaizumi. "I want to keep trying. Please. Oikawa-san."

Iwaizumi stares – Iwaizumi is nice. He doesn't use his full strength when he's training underclassmen, and has a hard time going all out against omegas outside of a tournament at all. He sees Kageyama as just that, a younger student, a darling omega, someone to be kind to, and foster, and help grow with encouraging words, and everything else regular-style humans need.

But he's can't see what Oikawa sees – even peering into Kageyama's face. Oikawa knows the dark, intense hunger there. Kageyama is a starving little creature, a monster, one that will grab experience with both hands, devour it greedily, and immediately demand more. 

This is a mutually beneficial thing, cathartic for Oikawa to hit as hard as he can, and experience for Kageyama to take the brunt of it, as long as he can.

The meanest thing Oikawa could do right now is be _nice_.

Kageyama climbs to his feet, licks his lips. Wipes at his chin. He nods. Another.

"You better start making this worth my time eventually, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, jumping high.

He serves, Kageyama dives. He misses.

Iwaizumi glares at the scene, and for a moment Oikawa thinks he might actually put an end to it anyway. Instead, after another minute or two, he shakes his head and leaves.

Kageyama climbs up onto wobbly legs. He nods. Another.

~

"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, finally, "Is a monster." 

"What! That's so mean, Tooru-san! After he complimented your nice hair!" #7 says, aghast. "You have very pretty hair, Tobio-kun."

Kageyama doesn't give a shit about about his hair. His one good eye is locked on Oikawa, and it's obvious he knows what Oikawa was actually saying. It makes his eyes water, and then he nods. 

"There we go," #2 says. "Now they're smelling like omegas!!"

"Are they both presenting??"

"Wait – it's off," #5 says, frowning as he smells the air. 

Oikawa stops listening. He doesn't hear the warning that the station is approaching.

He doesn't know what the alphas were smelling, what was _off_ about it, because Oikawa only smells _relief_ , after all the fear and pain, to put his face into Kageyama's neck and inhale – he still smells like a child, maybe he always will – clean and pure and he tugs Kageyama closer, to get more of it, nearly purring when he feels Kageyama doing the same to his own neck. 

_Mine_. This stupid, angry, clunky boy. In good ways, in bad, in _all ways_ , is Oikawa's, and he fists the fabric of Kageyama's shirt, bringing him in impossibly closer. _Mine_. 

He watches the alphas as they pass by once they reach the station, leaving the train, eyes tracking #3. His eyes are dark, a dare, a threat – try. Try to take him.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Photos from the rape in the last chapter will be briefly described here, so approach with caution!!

_You missed_.

It's the instinctive knowledge – the displaced air of a ball rushing over his outstretched hands, the faint noise of it hitting the ground, far out of reach – his body realizing _you fucked up_ , just before his brain. 

Iwaizumi made a mistake. 

He feels it in his gut the second the words are out of his mouth, and his brain catches up by the time Oikawa turns around, walking across the street to the bullet train. 

Iwaizumi can't get rid of his anger so quickly, though, he's not Oikawa and he can't just shut off an emotion because it's inconvenient. It still rages inside him, and he knows if he follows now, any apology will turn into another fight, more angry words, because even if he regrets what he said, he's still – not happy with Oikawa. Iwaizumi clenches his jaw in frustration, the unpleasant clench of his stomach returning.

" _Heeey_ ," a childish whine from behind. Iwaizumi turns around. Four players from Sarayashiki are in the door of the club, looking around, hoping to spot Oikawa, as the rest of the team spills out. 

"Where's Tooru-san?"

"He went home," Iwaizumi says.

"Kinda rude what you did back there," Arai says with an angry smile, shaking the hand Iwaizumi crushed, then turning it into a fist, putting it in his open palm. An implicit threat. 

"Okay," Iwaizumi says, unrepentant, looking him up and down. Arai's a big guy, but he's a high schooler, barely into his second year. If it came down to it, Arai could possibly win in a fight, but Iwaizumi can tell the kid doesn't have it in him to get _down to it_ with Iwaizumi, and he is unimpressed and unafraid as he stares him down.

Arai blinks first, and when he steps to the side for Iwaizumi, the rest follow suit. Iwaizumi walks into the club without another word, rolling his eyes when he hears them moaning about what to do with the rest of the night now.

Iwaizumi was only gone for a few minutes at most, so he's not entirely sure why he only sees four Aoba Johsai jackets on the dance floor – Kyotani, Kunimi, Watari, Kindaichi – 

"What was that all about?" Ah. Yahaba's off the dance floor, waiting at the table with Oikawa's untouched drink. It doesn't look like the rest of the team noticed the scene, thankfully. 

"We had to talk something out," Iwaizumi says. His tone doesn't invite any more questions but Yahaba has always been a bit of a shit. 

"'Cause Oikawa-san was flirting?" Yahaba says, making his voice deeper, very serious. He's obviously trying to have an alpha-to-alpha air about it, hands on his hips.

Iwaizumi stares, trying to reign in his anger because, while it's not Yahaba's place to ask, he knows this is actually how he looks for advice, specifically about alpha-related matters: Iwaizumi just dragged Yahaba's senpai out of a bar. He's rolling the thought around in his mind, clearly trying to see if it would work with his own unruly omega. Iwaizumi is too irritated to be useful right now, still too worked up from his moment with Arai, and the fight before that. "No."

Yahaba is visibly surprised. "Then why – "

"Oikawa has a lot of ways of pissing me off," Iwaizumi says, walking past Yahaba, to the floor, grabbing one of the teammates by the scruff of the neck. "Night's over. Let's go."

~

Oikawa and Iwaizumi have a combined birthday party the year they turn twelve. 

Their parents are in favor of the idea – just about all their friends and interests overlap, and splitting the costs make it cheaper. It's only the once, though, because by the time Oikawa's actual birthday rolls around a few weeks later, he gets so mopey and whiny that his mom ends up throwing him a second party anyway. 

"You're spoiled," Iwaizumi tells him.

Oikawa grins as though this is a compliment, flashing a peace sign.

Iwaizumi almost hits him, the only thing that stops him is the fact that Oikawa is holding a handful of sparklers in his other hand, and is cautious about it, keeping them at careful arms length.

It wasn't a _huge_ party, just a trip to the aquarium – which is discounted as Oikawa's birthday coincides with Sea Day, again – and then cupcakes and sparklers in the park while they wait for the fireworks display.

Oikawa sits down next to Iwaizumi slowly, still mindful of the hissing, bright sparks of flame in his hands. 

Iwaizumi watches him move. Oikawa's body is growing this summer, faster than it ever has, and Iwaizumi is aware of the long, thin line of his thigh as it tenses, and the surprisingly graceful descent as Oikawa settles on the grass.

It makes a spot right between Iwaizumi's shoulder blades tense, because they've been going back and forth in centimeters for years, but this time it doesn't look like Oikawa's going to wait for Iwaizumi to catch up, and it's becoming a real possibility that Oikawa will always be taller than him. 

He's not just growing, either. Iwaizumi's growth is simple – weight and height, up and out, numbers he can keep track of, but Oikawai is getting – _polished_. He doesn't know what else to call it. Oikawa's never been ugly, but lately he's becoming something – _shiny_? Iwaizumi's seen models in magazines, very long and tall, how they look a little like aliens, but beautiful. That's sort of it, but not quite. Whatever it is, Oikawa is getting closer to it, in the curve of his face and his broadening shoulders and his long, thin neck. Other people notice, too, teachers are quick to praise Oikawa in class, he usually gets extra servings whenever they get desserts from food carts and here he is on his _second_ birthday.

It frustrates Iwaizumi – not the extra stuff that Oikawa gets, really – but that he feels it too, like he wants to reach into his pocket and give Oikawa any random button or paper he has in there. But that's _stupid_. Oikawa is spoiled enough already! 

"Want a sparkler?" Oikawa suddenly asks, passing one off, and Iwaizumi takes it, aimlessly frustrated by the thinness of Oikawa's wrist and long, soft fingers. "They're cool, huh?"

Oikawa is oblivious to the conflict in Iwaizumi – no longer worried about getting burned, he's staring at his sparklers with such an earnestly delighted expression, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in his smile – and.

He grins at Iwaizumi, leaning in close to whisper, "My mom got like, five boxes. I snunk one into my backpack so we can light them later."

"Right," Iwaizumi says, not really paying attention as he says it.

That's what it is. He doesn't want to give Oikawa things, the pushing, demanding want in him finally has an actual goal, and everything in Iwaizumi lines up neatly with it. 

He leans in, is going to kiss him, but Oikawa suddenly sits up straight, and laughs a little, eying the difference in their heights. 

"This is good," Oikawa says, pats the top of Iwaizumi's head. "But try not to get much shorter, okay?"

Iwaizumi slugs him.

~

It's not very _alpha_ of him, but Iwaizumi isn't a jealous guy.

This isn't a virtue.

It's the same competitiveness that drives all serious volleyball players, the vindictive pleasure that comes from a victory of sheer, brute force. Walking through a tournament of rowdy alphas, watching their conversations grow quiet once they catch Oikawa's scent, crane their necks hopefully as he passes, only to be left with a cold look from Iwaizumi: _no. This one's mine._

Even watching Oikawa toy with interested alphas, parodically coy, leading them on, making them dance – yes, that's fine, because Iwaizumi is the one who gets to shut it down completely. Oikawa can own an entire room when he wants to, charismatic and bright, annoyingly tall, and intimidatingly pretty. To be the alpha Oikawa ultimately returns to – to own that moment of realization, the defeat and frustration in pursuing alphas is satisfying beyond words.

But Iwaizumi does not like being toyed with himself. And he knows just about every game in Oikawa's repertoire, he _knows_ when it's happening.

He's slumped on a bench in the Osaka station, hand fisted in his own hair, looking down at the messages he just sent Oikawa. 

**Me** :  
Are you there?  
Are you alright?  
I apologize for ignoring you, so you better not be acting shitty and ignoring me. 

He knows Oikawa's fine, he's probably already in bed, still angry ( _and hurt,_ an annoyingly honest part of his brain reminds him), and Iwaizumi has practice in – he groans. Four hours. He should go, but the longer it takes for Oikawa to respond, the more his irritation and worry grows.

Oikawa was toying with him earlier tonight, obviously, but why or when it started is beyond Iwaizumi. 

The club, he guesses. When Oikawa suggested going in, and Iwaizumi said no. That was the first time the night had felt – off. Then he got jealous about Iwaizumi going to clubs with Chou – is that why he dragged those high schoolers from Sarayashiki to the table? It seems a little petty, even for Oikawa at his brattiest. Is there something he's missing?

Iwaizumi drops his head against the wall behind him, banging it lightly. Does it matter? No amount of teasing or toying Oikawa did tonight could really justify what Iwaizumi said. That was all Iwaizumi, backed into a corner of is own insecurities, lashing out.

He doesn't like being in the wrong, _especially_ when Oikawa's in the right. He can clearly see Oikawa sticking out his tongue like a grade schooler, and he scowls.

He checks his phone.

Nothing. It's almost midnight. Iwaizumi should already be in bed.

He starts texting again.

 **Me** :  
Are you alright?  
I get it if you're mad, just respond.

He considers threatening to call his mother if he won't respond, but knows that's too far and Oikawa is almost certainly fine. 

If he gets some sleep on the train back to Chou, he might manage to get four hours of sleep before practice. 

Iwaizumi growls to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair, then types in a furious rush.

 **Me:**  
I'm not going to be able to get to sleep if you don't respond so just tell me you read this  
alright???  
you dont have to say anything else  
just 'k' or something  
Come on tooru

"Excuse me?"

Iwaizumi looks up. It's a trio. An alpha and two omegas, carrying two sleeping children. The alpha is older, maybe in her thirties, the omega directly behind her probably just a little older than Iwaizumi, possibly in university. Iwaizumi takes a longer look at the third omega, who has a hand against her lower back, heavily pregnant, and obviously in need of a place to sit. He almost gets up, before realizing there are benches all along the wall. 

"Could you tell us which train to take for Oshu?" the alpha asks, apologetically, bowing a little. Her language is just stiff enough to give her away as still learning, so Iwaizumi speaks slowly when pointing to the map and giving directions. He knows the ride – it's the same line to Miyagi, just a few stops early. He tells them that it's should arrive in the next half hour, and to be careful not to take the northbound train, a common mistake.

"Thank you very much," the alpha bows.

Iwaizumi watches them take a seat on a bench, the younger omega moving slowly, carefully, around her swollen stomach as she sits. She's young.

Iwaizumi looks away, feeling frustrated by this. There's no way she's older than eighteen. If she wasn't mated, Iwaizumi imagines she'd probably be getting ready for her last year of high school. Maybe thinking about college after that. This is obviously not the case.

~

"It's already going to be traditional - "

"Traditional? That big white American thing is traditional?"

Sanae, Hajime's cousin, pouts. "Everything except the dress." Hajime's mother makes a face, and Sanae scowls. "I want a dress!"

"Of course, it's your wedding," Hajime's mother says. "You can wear whatever you like, but a gown is going to look _absurd_ at a shrine! What is Nozomu-san wearing?"

Sanae looks to the side, then mutters, reluctantly, "Kimono."

Hajime's mother raises her eyebrows, like she doesn't have to say anything else.

" _Fine_ ," Sanae says. "I'll think about a kimono."

Hajime watches the two of them talk, his chin resting on the table, bored. Sanae is Hajime's cousin, his only cousin. She's an omega and way older but he likes when she visits. She doesn't like sports, but she plays video games and will take Hajime to see movies or to the park. But then she got a boyfriend, an alpha, and she got bonded, and now she's getting married.

Her visits haven't been fun for a long time. Hajime looks up at Sanae's neck, at her bond mark. It's big, like most alpha marks, and Sanae says she likes how dark it is. She says it looks _distinguished_. Hajime frowns, and slumps down to lay under the kotatsu table. They're probably just going to be talking about wedding stuff this whole visit.

"Now we have to talk about this summer idea - Sanae-chan, do you have any idea how hot it will be in a dress or kimono during summer?" his mother is saying, and Sanae is getting more upset, her arms crossed.

"Nozomu-san is already okay with a summer wedding."

"Really?" his mother asks.

"Well. He didn't want to, but we talked about it - "

"Really, think about this Sanae-chan," his mother says. "You're going to be walking up the shrine steps, through the courtyard, up into the shrine again - you'll be a sweaty mess and so will everyone else."

"Autumn, then!"

"Next autumn?" his mother sounds confused by this. "Nozomu-san's classes start next autumn, don't they?"

"But my classes _finish_ this spring," Sanae says.

Hajime has stopped paying attention to this very boring conversation, making his action figures crash into one another in his hands, but the sudden quiet has him lifting his head up out of the kotatsu again, curious. His mother has a very serious expression, but she's looking down at the table. Sanae is - crying! Or, almost crying. About to cry.

"What's wrong??" he asks, quickly crawling to her side of the table.

"Maybe," Sanae says. She pats the top of Hajime's head, ruffling his hair, but she's talking to Hajime's mother. "We could... put it off for a while."

"A while," his mother repeats.

"Just to make sure it's not a mistake."

"Sanae-chan, you are well past making any mistakes," his mother says, then shakes her head, lifting her hands. "But If that's what you want. Will Nozomu-san agree to it?"

"Maybe I don't care what he'll agree to," Sanae says.

"If that's the case," Hajime's mother says. "Then you should've thought twice before _bonding with him_. This is the reality of your situation, Sanae-chan. You have an alpha who wants to be successful and wants to take care of you. You have to decide if it's worth the sacrifice of an - an independent life."

"I just want - I want to finish school. I want to graduate, I want to - do things. I have things I want to do!" Sanae says. "But that's not what Nozomu-san wants, and it's so hard with this bond - "

"So," his mother says. "A spring wedding, and a kimono. Did I understand right?"

Sanae is quiet for a second, then she nods. Hajime's mother smiles.

"Good. I understand it's hard," she says. "But if everyone just gave up whenever something was hard, nothing worthwhile would be done at all."

"Yes," Sanae says. She's quiet, and Hajime is quiet, as his mother gets up and leaves the room. Sanae doesn't look like she's going to cry anymore, but Hajime is still worried about it, still looking close at her face and he pats her shoulder to comfort her.

"It's okay," he says. She doesn't answer, so he tries to give her a hug instead. This works. He smiles as she hugs back, tighter than usual.

"Life sucks, Hajime," she says, and she does cry, but only a little. 

~

Sanae never graduated high school. She'd seemed so old to him at the time, but she'd be one of his underclassmen today - barely seventeen. She was married almost three years by Iwaizumi's age, pregnant with her second child. She was in her thirties before she managed to severe the bond with Nozomu, a painful process that took years and years of effort.

Iwaizumi sighs, never comfortable when his thoughts go down this path, the realities and difficulties of bonding. He's pressing his phone to his forehead, just about to give up, when it buzzes.

He jumps, relief washing through him, then a little bit of righteous annoyance when he sees, yes, it's from Oikawa.

 _this better be an apology for falling asleep_ he's getting ready to reply, but his thoughts trip up, falling to confused pieces. 

It's a picture. He knows it's Oikawa at the first glance, identifying his hair before anything else. He thinks it's a selfie, before the rest of the image falls into place, but a strange one, because Oikawa looks so – scared. His eyes are red from crying. 

Still confused, he scrolls to the next picture. 

Fuck.

What the fuck.

Oikawa. Bent forward, wearing only his shirt, and a hand – fingers – visibly wet, pushing inside of – 

Oikawa, head down, hand up, trying to block the camera from taking a picture.

Oikawa, a hand – a stranger's hand, grabbing Oikawa's wrist, yanking it away, _someone's touching Oikawa._

"Sir, are you okay?"

Iwaizumi looks up from his phone, and whatever's on his face makes the alpha take a step back, hands up. He realizes he's on his feet, and several feet away from the bench he was sitting on seconds ago. 

Oikawa was – is – someone is – he scrolls back up through the pictures. Multiple hands, multiple pairs of feet, _people_ are – raping Oikawa.

It's the word, _rape_ , finally thinking it, that pushes him to react in a rational step; he needs to call the police.

His thumb actually shakes when he goes to minimize the image of Oikawa's face, eyes pinched shut, tears running down his cheeks, _fuck_ , it feels like he's abandoning him but obviously, no, obviously this happened – this already happened. 

Oikawa is on a train, in the pictures. Oikawa was heading back to Tsukuba. He's on the northbound train, headed for Tsukuba, and he was attacked. He repeats this to himself, using it as something to focus on – actual, useful human words, and not a horrified, enraged shout that's banging through his head. And then he calls the police.

~

"Your son was assaulted by a group of at least four alphas."

Iwaizumi knew that, and he's sure Oikawa's parents were given some idea of what happened when they got the call in the middle of the night that their son was in the hospital, but there's something about hearing it, about the doctor's frank, almost calm tone that sucks the air out of the waiting room. 

"Now, Tooru was brought in with another omega who was also attacked," the doctor continues. "Occasionally, during an extremely traumatic experience, omegas will form a bond as a way to cope – "

"Tooru bonded with an omega?" Oikawa's father's eyes are narrowed, visibly struggling to process that.

"Yes – partially," the doctor says. "When they were brought in, we needed to evaluate their injuries, which meant they had to be separated, which disrupted the process."

"How bad - how bad were they? The injuries?"

"Thankfully," he doctor says, and from the tone alone Iwaizumi can practically feel a heavy weight lifting from his shoulders. "Tooru experienced virtually no physical trauma."

"I'm sorry, I just – " Oikawa's mother swallows, composing herself. "'No physical trauma.' Could you be more specific, this is going to be a very long conversation if we're trying to be polite, please."

"The attackers were very careful, all penetration was slow and minimal."

Iwaizumi freezes, hearing a sharp, unpleasant ring, growing louder and louder in his hears, blocking out the rest of the doctor's words, and all other thoughts. _All penetration._ All penetration of Oikawa was minimal. Oikawa was _penetrated_ \- 

"Are you alright?"

Iwaizumi blinks and realizes it was the doctor who asked, and is looking at Iwaizumi with calm patience. Iwaizumi is growling. He stops, abruptly, as soon as he hears it, feels the strange rippling in his throat that always happens whenever he does it. "I'm fine."

"No tearing," the doctor continues, slowly, eyes on Iwaizumi as though checking to make sure that's true. "And they didn't ejaculate inside either omega. But as I said, when your son was brought in, he was sedated, and his bond with the other omega was interrupted, which will impact the rest of his treatment. Do you know anything about partial bonds?"

They all shake their heads. Iwaizumi knows about bonds formed out of a traumatic experience – a uniquely omegan thing that will be life long unless severed, like any other bond. He's never heard of a partial or interrupted bond, though. As far as he's ever heard, they're more or less instantaneous. Usually bonded mates will take a week or so off from all obligations for the process, but that's mostly to experience with the aftermath and enjoy the new connection.

Enjoy the new connection. 

Iwaizumi blinks hard, breath catching at a sudden, brutal wave of _loss,_ the ringing in his ears returning.

Bonding in his mind has always been linked to Oikawa. It's a thought that's given him a mix of excitement and frustration and comfort for years, because – he knew, before anything else, that it was going to happen. It's such a well traveled thought process in his mind, he goes to its conclusion immediately: Eventually, one day, he'd have to take a week off of his responsibilities in order to devote himself fully to Oikawa's well-satisfied body in bed. The thought feels like a slap to the face, now.

He bonded to someone else. Oikawa is going to explore that connection with someone else. 

He drops his head to his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes as the doctor continues. 

"A partial bond is incredibly tricky. If it's disrupted it can damage both parties," the doctor says. "We've roomed the two of them together and thankfully it looks like they'll complete the bond, but until that's happened they're in very strict quarantine from any alphas or omegas. Only beta attendants will be allowed into the room for very short amount of time, and your family will have decide on one beta who is allowed to visit – I assume it will be you, Oikawa-san?"

His mother nods, looking about as numb as Iwaizumi feels.

"How long will it take?" Iwaizumi asks, at the same time Oikawa's father asks, "How long until he can sever this bond?"

"Ah – well, ideally, the bond should complete in a week, and in about a year we can start discussing severing his bond – "

"A _year?_ " his father scoffs.

"I know it may seem like a partial bond should be easier to break than a traditional one, but it's actually much more work," the doctor says. "To be completely frank, I would be surprised if it's still on the table in a year, but it has happened in the past. Though this obviously – a shock, and some bad news, omegas usually recover from this type of event much faster when they're able to bond, so it's not without its benefits."

Iwaizumi is being greedy. Being selfish. He should be grateful – it could've been so much worse. He showed up expecting worse, expecting to hear about – tearing. Broken limbs. Rehabilitation. And Oikawa likes omegas, he's never made a secret of it. Iwaizumi should take heart in that thought, and hope for the best, and Oikawa's happiness, but the surge of rage is so intense he can't even excuse himself, just standing and storming out of the waiting room without a word, marching down the hall, until he reaches the vending machine at the end and kicks it as hard as he can.

Fuck. That was a good hurt, though, and he slams both palms into it, leaning back for a good, solid punch. 

"Iwaizumi-san! Iwaizumi Hajime!"

It's a nurse, and he drops back from the machine quickly, looking to the floor and lifting his hands, still too pissed to actually apologize or speak at all.

They don't seem angry, though.

"You're Oikawa Tooru's friend, correct? You called the police?"

"Yeah," Iwaizumi says, wiping at his eyes, which apparently started dripping at some point between the waiting room and the machines. 

"We were wondering if you could help us identify the second victim in these photos?" the nurse asks, holding Oikawa's phone. "Both omegas are still sedated, we haven't been able to identify anything in our records."

Again, it's the hair Iwaizumi places first. 

And again, despite the obvious context, is first thought is that it's a selfie. It's Kageyama with – dirt? On his face? Iwaizumi feels cold dread when he realizes it's actually wounds, half his face a mess with bruising, left eye swollen shut, the telltale bruising of a broken nose beginning under his eyes, blood just – everywhere. 

"Kageyama Tobio," Iwaizumi says feeling numb, surprised at how calm he actually sounds. "He's a second year at Karasuno high school."

"Thank you. Do you have any contact information?"

"Sorry," Iwaizumi says, at best all he has is Kageyama's cellphone number, assuming he hasn't changed it since junior high, which doesn't really give them anything helpful. 

Iwaizumi stares after the nurse, stunned speechless – after the relief of Oikawa's lack of injuries, he hadn't even thought ask about the second omega. What the hell happened?

Not wanting to go back to the waiting room just yet, face the doctor or Oikawa's parents, he leans against the wall. The exhaustion is confusing until he realizes it's nearly two in the morning. He has to call his school. 

As if waiting for the cue, Iwaizumi's phone rings, but just once. By the time he pulls it out, whoever it was hung up. Unknown number. 

He's going to call back, but he always feels clumsy with his phone, and ends up tapping the wrong app, one he doesn't remember installing and he can tell by the slowly spinning processing icon that it's not worth it, and just locks his phone.

Immediately, a text lights up his lock screen:

 **Mattsun** :  
You ok buddy?

 **Me** :  
?

 **Mattsun** :  
whoa what the hell  
you responded  
you must really be dying

Iwaizumi's patience is already especially short, but before he can ask again just how the hell Matsukawa knew something happened, he sends another message. 

**Mattsun** :  
you just checked in at UoT hospital

Oh. Iwaizumi glares down at his phone.

 **Me:**  
I'm fine. Oikawa

Iwaizumi pauses.

 **Me** :  
had a bad accident.

 **Mattsun** :  
How bad??  
does hanamaki know??

 **Me:**  
He's ok. no one knows  
except his family  
they're here

 **Mattsun** :  
???  
"bad accident"? but he's ok?

Frustrated, Iwaizumi taps the phone icon beside Mattsun's name.

"What the hell happened?" Matasukawa asks as soon as he picks up.

"Do you remember Sarayashiki?"

"No? What? Should I?"

"That team last year, one of the – " Iwaizumi closes his eyes in annoyance, digging his fist into his hair. "Oikawa was attacked. On a train. A group of alphas from that school."

"Wha – " Matasukawa says. "How bad? He's at the hospital?? Fuck, Tsukuba's season is about to start, if he gets an injury – "

"The doctor says he's not – injured."

A long pause.

"… Oh," Matasukawa finally says, voice cold and distant as it clicks. "No."

"We had a fight before," Iwaizumi says, voice suddenly thick and face hot. "So I didn't go after him. So. He was alone. Kageyama was with him."

"What – that setter? The freak-quick setter?" 

"Yeah" 

"What the hell?"

Iwaizumi eyes are still closed tight. He leans back against the wall and tells him what the doctor said about the bond, and Kageyama, and there's a long, confused pause.

"What the hell," Matasukawa finally repeats. "A bond. How – honestly – sorry, but I expected the two of you to be mated by graduation."

Iwaizumi shrugs one shoulder. 

"... Why didn't you?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head, staring off blankly. It feels stupid to even verbalize, now. "I just didn't want anything to change."

"Well."

"It changed anyway," Iwaizumi says, sparing Matasukawa from having to say it.

"Alright," Matasukawa says, obviously sitting up, probably from bed. "I'm on my way."

"They're not letting alphas in to see him."

"Yeah. You leaving?"

Iwaizumi is quiet.

"Give me – forty minutes," Matasukawa says. "Well, shit. Closer to sixty."

"You don't have to – "

"Iwaizumi." A beat. "I get the whole thing between you guys, but. He's – he's mine too, you know?"

"… Yeah," Iwaizumi says, and covers his eyes, feeling grateful for it. 

~

"I thought Aoba Johsai was supposed to be a powerhouse."

"Hn. It's why _I_ came here."

"So what's coach doing? Letting him play during practice is one thing, but this isn't junior high! _Serious_ players should be out on the court, not - "

Iwaizumi isn't sure who his fellow first years are talking about – Aoba Johsai _is_ a powerhouse school, but there are a few mediocre players on the team. There always are. Iwaizumi can't think of any that are a serious contenders to be made a regular, though, and he's about to ask, when he sees the two complaining teammates finally notice Iwaizumi is in the room at all. They're looking at him with matching defensive, guilty expressions.

Oh.

"Oikawa's more serious than either of you," Iwaizumi says, yanking on his sneakers.

"Whatever. Tamaru has been setting since last year. Everyone's used to him, and he has way more experience than an _omega_ first year."

"Tamaru's sets are lazy." Matsukawa is already dressed, and is stretching his arms, sounding bored. "They're always too close to the net. I hate them."

"Who is going to take our school seriously when we show up with an omega setter?"

Iwaizumi slams his locker shut, and the two of them jump, startled again. He glares, but knows not to start a fight, not jeopardize Oikawa's practice match. He leaves the club house, nearly running directly into Oikawa, just on the outside.

It's obvious from his long, strained smile that he heard everything. "Ready?"

Iwaizumi scowls, not liking to look on Oikawa's face. He nods sharply and high-fives Oikawa has hard as he can.

" _Oww!_ Iwa-chan!!" Oikawa whines, shaking his stinging hands as he trails after Iwaizumi to the gym, where most of the team is already waiting.

"We have a lot of strong new blood this year," Coach Mizoguchi says, pleased as he looks over the gathered team. "No matter how this plays out, we're going to have a very dynamic team this year, and with some hard work, a great chance at nationals. Everyone should be very excited."

They're not.

If he hadn't overheard the conversation in the club house, Iwaizumi thinks he might have missed it, but most of the players are glancing over at Oikawa. They've all been practicing together for a while, and he's gained a lot of attention, because he's good, and because he isn't shy, and he talks a lot, and he's tall, and none of that is _bad_. Iwaizumi is annoyed, biting his tongue to keep from saying so out loud.

He can see the way Oikawa taps against his sneakers nervously, smiling up at the coach with that fake smile. He wonders how long Oikawa's noticed. 

Aoba Johsai is a powerhouse, and last season they had sixteen players on the roster. There's only six spots on the court, though, and Iwaizumi looks over the team as it stands now - technically there's only two spots to be filled. Six second years, only one of them in the regular rotation, a solid, tall spiker with a powerful serve. He's not going anywhere. Four third years, and three of them in the regular rotation. But they're lazy. They leaned hard on the players from last season to fill holes in their offense, and it shows. They have to feel it, the five new first years breathing down their necks, tall, ambitious, hungry and eager for a chance to usurp their positions. 

"We've been watching your practices and taking notes, but we'll be making our final evaluations during this match," their coach is saying. "So play your best – now's when you show us why we need you as a regular!"

There's only two potential setters, Oikawa and Tamaru, and the players aren't given any direction on how to split the teams, the coaches watching from the sidelines as they sort it out themselves, and Iwaizumi can only assume this is part of their evaluation, as well. 

He's not surprised when most of the second and third years pick Tamaru, but it's a stab in the back when Hanamaki and Matsukawa, two of the taller first years Oikawa has been setting for in all their practices, ask to play with Tamaru, too. 

Oikawa looks openly disappointed, and they both silently watch Hanamaki and Matsukawa walk to the other side of the net. 

Iwaizumi knows it doesn't matter, because Oikawa's tosses are good, they'll make _anyone_ look good, and it's their own loss for heading over to Tamaru. It would've been easier for Oikawa to show this if he had stronger spikers, though, instead of just Iwaizumi and a handful of other first years and the upperclassmen on the roster that sit on the bench.

"I'm happy to be playing with all of you!" Oikawa says, shaking off his disappointment, clapping his hands and giving that big, fake smile to the few who joined his team. "Let's have a great match!"

The whistle blows, Tamaru's team serves – Oikawa's team receives, it goes over the net – Iwaizumi glares, watching, waiting, refusing to let one of Tamaru's floppy sets make it over.

Tamaru tosses – Hanamaki rushes up to the net to take it. 

Iwaizumi scowls, because he's played with Hanamaki enough to know he's _definitely_ strong enough to save Tamaru's toss, he'll probably slam it straight down, and Iwaizumi braces for it, but – 

He blinks.

It hit the net.

Hanamaki is looking directly at Iwaizumi as the ball drops on Tamaru's side of the net.

He didn't save it at all.

Iwaizumi almost loses his balance when he drops back to the floor, confused. Hanamaki runs back to his spot. "Sorry!"

"Don't mind!" someone else yells.

Iwaizumi glances over and Oikawa, still surprised, and sees a slow smile starting up his face.

Matsukawa is next, and doesn't attempt to save the toss either. The ball barely gets over the net, easily saved and returned, and Iwaizumi slams down his next spike.

The game continues in this way, and Tamaru grows frustrated, his tosses becoming faster, sharper, but no easier to hit. By the end of the practice match he's deteriorated to the point that even his own regulars couldn't save his tosses, and no one is surprised when Oikawa is picked as the regular setter.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa are both taller than Iwaizumi, taller than most of the second years. Either one of them should've been an easy pick as a regular, and Iwaizumi knows the only reason they're benched for the next season is because they willingly went down with Tamaru's ship.

"Well," Hanamaki says, later in the clubhouse when they ask him about it, rubbing the back of his neck. "No one would take us seriously if we showed up to games with that dough roll of a setter."

Oikawa's face flushes, and doesn't seem to know what to do with himself in a rare loss of composure. 

"Just keep us as a powerhouse school until next season, alright?" Matsukawa says. 

Oikawa salutes, sharply.

~

 **0112510726** :  
Hello, this is Daichi Sawamura from  
Karasuno

Iwaizumi blinks awake from where he'd been dozing in the hospital chair. It takes him a moment to remember where he is and why, and another, longer one, to make sense of the text on his phone.

He sits up slowly, trying to come up with a response.

 **Me** :  
Hello

 **Karasuno Sawamura** :  
Do you have any information you can share about the accident Kageyama was in?  
Kageyama messaged one of our teammates but didn't give much detail.  
It's a panic.

 **Me:**  
University of Tsukuba Hospital  
Kageyama is in quarantine  
They're only letting beta family visit.

 **Karasuno Sawamura** :  
Thank you.

Iwaizumi starts putting his phone away.

 **Karasuno Sawamura** :  
How is he?

Iwaizumi stares, the image of Kageyama's bruise face in his head. How does he put it in words? He doesn't even want to, particularly, it's not his place and he doesn't know how close Karasuno is, doesn't know how much Kageyama would want any of them to know, but even implying that it's something private would basically be giving it away. He slowly types out each word, hating each letter as he goes.

 **Me:**  
He was hurt.

Iwaizumi winces.

 **Me** :  
It's not good.

He winces harder.

 **Karasuno Sawamura** :  
I see.  
Thank you.

Iwaizumi pauses. If Kageyama was able to text… 

He scrolls through his contacts.

 **Me** :  
You awake?

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
Yes

Originally he was going to ask if Kageyama could pass his phone over to Oikawa immediately, but he stares down at the three letters Kageyama sent, feeling stumped. It's just been so long since they last spoke. 

**Me** :  
How are you?

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
tired

Then a few seconds later.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
sore

Anger, again, fast, sharp and hard. He's fuming with it, forcing himself to type as he bites down hard on his lip.

 **Me** :  
It shouldn't have happened.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
yeah

 **Me** :  
I'm sorry.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
Yeah  
im going to sleep

 **Me** :  
can I talk to Oikawa?

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
yeah

 **Me** :  
Thanks

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
Iwaizumi

 **Me** :  
Oikawa?

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
yooo

 **Me** :  
I'm sorry.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
you and me both  
im basically fine though  
so  
relax ꒡ᴗ꒡

 **Me** :  
not exactly comforting

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
they didn't fuck us

Iwaizumi blinks.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
it was just groping/finger stuff

"Stop," Iwaizumi says out loud, watching the messages come in in horror.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
guess that wasn't very comforting either!  
Mom's here  
TTYL IWA-CHAN  
(ღˇ◡ˇ)~♥


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another shortish one. After this we should be seeing Kageyama's POV for the first time, hurraayyyyyy~

_Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-_

Oikawa's father is bouncing his leg, his heel hitting against the ground at a rapid, agitated pace, as though waiting impatiently for something. Iwaizumi can't imagine what. Oikawa's mother will probably be as she can visiting her son, and Iwaizumi's not counting on there being any updates in Okiawa's general status any time soon.

"So!" his father says abruptly, trying to sound upbeat and failing miserably, still shaking his leg. "What can you tell me about this young man? Kageyama Tobio?"

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then pauses. 

The Kageyama he knows best was twelve years old. 

He was an obedient and eager student, with an awkwardly blunt personality that set him apart from the rest of the first years. The sudden mental image of that Kageyama, young and guileless, standing in Kitagawa Daiichi's gym as the coach talks with him, holding the ball to his chest because he'd rather not be separated from one, even for a few minutes, is a sharp, painful thing after that - picture of his injuries. Imagining what happened. Everything.

But Kageyama is not twelve anymore. He's obviously grown since then – first to the frenzied, tyrant king, then coming into himself as the competent, accommodating Karasuno setter. Iwaizumi's only seen _that_ , the newest Kageyama, from the other side of the net, and though Oikawa still seems to consider himself an expert on _Tobio-chan_ from those few glimpses, Iwaizumi doesn't want to make too many assumptions. He obviously respects his upperclassmen and coaches, taking their advice and cooperating with his teammates, growing into a dangerous opponent not to be taken lightly, but otherwise… 

"Serious. Driven," Iwaizumi finally says. "Talented."

"Huh. Sounds like you," Oikawa's father says. "Is he cute?"

Iwaizumi's thoughts immediately blank out, almost in an act of self preservation. "In a way."

"He was Tooru's underclassmen, right? Was there ever any kind of –" The upbeat tone starts to drop as Oikawa's father clears his throat, scratching at the back of his neck. " _Thing_ between them?"

"No," Iwaizumi says, easily. "They weren't close. Kageyama was called a prodigy, and Tooru was threatened by that. A lot of bitterness, if anything." 

"Ah, finally a bit of good news!" Oikawa's father laughs, slapping at his knee. "Hopefully we'll get this bond severed sooner rather than later."

Iwaizumi grunts vaguely.

"Though I suppose nothing's ever guaranteed when it comes to Tooru," Oikawa's father says, misreading Iwaizumi's lack of enthusiasm. "We thought we were finally out of the woods when he made it through high school without bringing home an omega! And then this…"

Iwaizumi grunts again, keeping his arms crossed.

"But," Oikawa's father laughs, giving Iwaizumi an encouraging slap on the back. "How long is a year, really? Don't count Tooru out just yet!"

Iwaizumi is baffled by this attitude, until he sees the strained, almost frantic worry in Oikawa's father's grin. 

Oikawa looks nothing like either of his parents. Iwaizumi remembers a photograph of a great aunt or something, with the same floppy hair and impish eyes, but Oikawa's immediate family is all very serious faced, and his father is even more so now, his drawn and pained expression making him look like a much older man. 

He's afraid. He thinks Iwaizumi is going to consider Oikawa damaged goods, or just be too impatient to wait, or something else that will mean Iwaizumi leaving him to find some other omega. That Oikawa will, perhaps, decide to stay bonded to Kageyama. This isn't a time to rock the boat, and until now it's an issue that's never been forced, but Oikawa's parents have never been comfortable with Oikawa's preferences, and would often comment about how _worried they'd be_ if it wasn't for Iwaizumi. He's sure it's some backward sentiment about wanting Oikawa to be properly taken care of, but they should know better than anyone how capable their son is, considering how often he's able to completely play them. 

Iwaizumi clears his throat, glancing down the hall where Oikawa's staying, off limits, beyond Iwaizumi's reach. 

"Tooru is my family," he says. "He always will be. But if his bond settles, and he's happy, I'm not going to expect him to go through that kind of pain for me."

"That - yes, but there are always – other ways," Oikawa's father sputters. "You could _join_ his bond – "

Iwaizumi scowls down at the floor. The idea of being responsible for _two_ omegas is an intimidating one. He has no idea how he, himself, would feel about something like that, let alone Oikawa, let alone _Kageyama_ , let alone a _year_ from now. "We'll have to see what happens."

Oikawa's father finally sobers, gaze dropping to the floor as well, his leg stilling. 

"I suppose we will."

~

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking at my health stats," Iwaizumi says, committing them to memory. "So I'll know if you unpause the game and beat up my character while I'm in the bathroom."

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa says, slapping his cheeks in heartbroken disbelief. "I wouldn't do that!"

"You _would,_ " Iwaizumi says. "And if you _do_ , I'll know, and I'll punch you when I get back."

The way Oikawa pouts makes it obvious that this had been his plan, and they both stick their tongues out at one another as he leaves the room.

He hurries, because he put off going as long as he possibly could, and because he knows even with the threat of a punch, Oikawa isn't at his best when he's staring temptation right in the eye. 

He also knows Oikawa's home well, he's familiar with this hall, but a sudden spot of brightness where there should be shadows gets his attention. 

The door to Oikawa Hana's room is open.

Iwaizumi slows to a stop, blinking. He's an only child, and has always found Oikawa's older sisters to be something very mysterious and interesting, their high school lives and hobbies. He's only gotten glimpses of Hana's room in the past, and is very curious about what's going on in there, creeping closer as quietly as he can. 

Her room is clean, and organized, but her bed is unmade. There are papers and books stacked on her desk, and a large board a covered in notes and photos tacked into place on the wall. Hana is inside, she's taken off her school uniform jacket, spinning her tie in agitation as she talks on the phone.

"'What could go wrong?'" Hana says, pacing from one side of her room to the other. "You could _die_ , for one thing. Your brain literally thinks you're dying when you sever a bond, Aimi."

Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows. He's heard this kind of talk before – his cousin is trying to sever a bond with an alpha, and he feels prickling of excitement, that he knows what she's talking about, this very serious thing that not even Hana's friend knows. 

"No, I'm not exaggerating. Didn't your parents talk to you about this? It's the same chemicals, you can look it up," Hana says, rolling her eyes, flopping onto her bed. "No, it's even _worse_ that you're both omegas – " A beat. "No, when two omegas bond it's like, everything syncs up and it's way more intense than a usual bond, so when it severs –" she tsks rolling her eyes. " _'If'_ it severs, it literally feels like you're dying. Half-way." 

" _K.O._!"

Iwaizumi snaps upright, glaring over his shoulder. That was the video game announcer, and it's followed by the grunts of Iwaizumi's character's death animation. 

"Oops," comes Oikawa's sheepish, little voice.

"Oikawa! I'm gonna kick your head like a soccer ball!" 

"Just my little brother's friend," Hana's voice is getting closer and Iwaizumi looks up in time to see her raising an unimpressed eyebrow at him before closing her bedroom door. "No, _that's what I'm saying_ ," he hears her say as she walks back to her bed. "A bond with an omega is a bond for life."

He doesn't particularly pay attention to it anymore, though, too busy running to the bathroom, swearing at Oikawa as he pees as fast as he can. 

~

Exhaustion catches up with Iwaizumi again, and he ends up dozing, slouched low in the hospital chair, waking when something warm and round taps his forehead.

He frowns, waking up to see Matsukawa standing there, resting a cup of coffee between Iwaizumi's eyes. 

"Morning."

"Thanks," Iwaizumi says, taking the cup and sitting upright.

"I only brought two," Matsukawa says, quietly, and they both look over at Oikawa's sleeping father. "So?"

"Nothing new," Iwaizumi says.

"You said they identified the team that attacked Oikawa?"

"They sent pictures," Iwaizumi forces out, the memory making his anger heat in a dark, restless way. "From Oikawa's phone, during the attack. I told the police I recognized the uniform."

Matsukawa freezes, slowly lowering his cup from his mouth. "That's fucked up."

"Yeah."

"What are they, sociopaths? That's some seriously vindictive shit, did they even know him outside of that game last year?"

"We saw them at a club earlier last night. They recognized him from last year, but it wasn't – " Iwaizumi's anger builds at the memory. He'd been _annoyed_ but he hadn't sensed any real _danger_. Frustration at a near agonizing level is weighing on him. He could've stopped it. They were _right there_. He could've done more, he could've said something – could've – been more imposing, enough to make them think twice about putting their hands on – Iwaizumi grits his teeth and forcibly cuts the tangent short. It's pointless. 

"They were assholes," he says. "But they were trying to impress him, they – they seemed like regular high schoolers."

Matsukawa is quiet, tapping his thumb against his cup. "And now Oikawa has a bond."

"Yeah."

"It's petty, I guess, but," Matsukawa is shaking his head. "I'm really hoping this doesn't fuck up his chances to play."

Iwaizumi stares forward listlessly. Outside of a few pitch hitters, no omegas have played at a professional level in Japan. It's a fact Oikawa liked to bring up from time to time, when he was at his absolute best during practice, buzzing with hot, unstoppable energy, eyes blazing. _"It doesn't have to be me, as long as it isn't_ Tobio-chan _first,"_ he'd add, in an attempt to be humble.

Everything seemed to be lining up for it, and _these_ are the years Oikawa needs most desperately to make it happen – to be seen, playing at this level, regularly, to become an actual name, more than a novelty… 

"It's probably on Oikawa's mind, too."

"How's his team, by the way?" Matsukawa asks. "How's yours?"

Iwaizumi doesn't know much about Oikawa's team, and Chou University is a competitive, powerhouse school, though Iwaizumi doesn't have much serious aspirations after college, he's trying to make the most of the opportunity, careful as he picks his classes, still undecided. Matsukawa was accepted into his college of choice because of a volleyball scholarship, but isn't in the regular line up and isn't bothered by it. He already knows he wants to major in literature, and only gives a brief description of his own new teammates before talking at length about what he's planning for his dissertation, four years from now. 

The hospital is changing shifts, and there have been a growing number of new arrivals on the floor, but the next time the door to the lobby opens, Iwaizumi's almost to his feet before he realizes why. 

Generally speaking, alphas can't distinguish scents as well as omegas. According to Oikawa, Kageyama smells like pears and vanilla, calling it _gaudy_. All Iwaizumi's ever smelled is _Kageyama_ , he doesn't have any words for it beyond that, and that's what he smells now. 

_Kageyama_.

It's a woman, with short, cropped hair. She walks briskly past the waiting room, scanning it as she goes with an eerily familiar expression: serious, grim, intimidating. She's an alpha, and smells like – well. Not _exactly_ like Kageyama, but close enough that it got Iwaizumi's attention. Her gaze locks with Iwaizumi as she passes – dark blue eyes – and barely stops at the help desk before a doctor is hurrying out to greet her.

"Kageyama-san," the doctor says. They're not the same one who spoke to Oikawa's parents, this one looks younger, smaller and somewhat timid, already bowing. "Please come with me."

Iwaizumi watches the two of them leave the room, presumably for privacy. 

What had the doctor said about Kageyama.. ? Iwaizumi's suddenly not sure. He knows Oikawa didn't have any injuries, but that _obviously_ did not extend to Kageyama. He knows Oikawa wasn't – wasn't _spilled in_ , but what about – 

"Iwaizumi?"

Iwaizumi looks sharply over at Matsukawa, who is taking a long, considering sip of his coffee.

"I've heard a lot from Oikawa about Kageyama," Matsukawa says. "From Kindaichi, too... But you've always been pretty quiet."

"… There's no point in arguing with Oikawa when he gets like that," Iwaizumi says, getting out his phone.

 **Me** :  
Kageyama's mother just got here.

"What's funny," Matsukawa says. "Is I've never seen him get _like that_ about anything, except that kid."

Iwaizumi has, but they're all very closely related fears, easily bleeding into each other – failure, the limitations of his body, Shiratorizawa, Ushijima himself. Kageyama was the first, though, and probably the least intimidating one, the one Oikawa made the most personal. 

"Kageyama definitely struck a nerve."

 **Karasuno Kageyama** :  
he's still asleep

 **Karasuno Kageyama** :  
ATTACHED: 00000001545.jpg

The picture is dark, and Iwaizumi tenses, the memory of the last time he got a picture from Oikawa still too close, but there's nothing to fear. Oikawa has his forearm up, blocking his eyes from the glare of the screen, masking his expression. He's making a lazy peace sign, and under his chin is the unmistakable curve of Kageyama's head, Iwaizumi can just make out one closed eye. 

It's a surprising image, though he's not sure why – completing a bond would logically include some physical closeness. It's peaceful, bringing a strong wave of relief and he types back _Thanks_ before really thinking about it.

"How close were you two?"

Iwaizumi blinks up from his phone. "Huh?"

"You and Kageyama," Matsukawa says.

"… Not very," Iwaizumi says. 

Matsukawa raises an eyebrow.

Iwaizumi doesn't blink. It's the truth – he'd made sure of it.

~

Not even Oikawa is staying late to practice today, eager as anyone for winter break to start. The halls and gyms are quickly emptying at Kitagawa Daiichi, and Iwaizumi expects the clubhouse to be the same, but when he opens the door, someone in the back springs to their feet.

"… Tobio?" Iwaizumi asks when he turns on the light, baffled. 

The boy was alone, in the dark, and looks – _angry_. Hands clenched in tight fists at his sides, and he scowls down at the floor. 

Iwaizumi's noticed some friction between not only Oikawa and Kageyama, but between Kageyama and the rest of the first years, as well. He seems to be an almost constant offbeat, and Iwaizumi can't guess what brought this gloomy mood on in particular, simply because there's so many possibilities. 

It must have been something especially bad, because Kageyama's expression doesn't smooth out when he sees it's Iwaizumi, like it usually does. Kageyama actually looks _angrier_ , his glare tightening. 

Iwaizumi has to resist the urge to take a step back, never really noticing Kageyama's presence like this before. The thing that makes him a beacon on the court, impossible to ignore, is now a smothering, suffocating black hole, the whole room darkening with his mood.

"You… okay?" Iwaizumi asks.

"Yes!" Kageyama shouts tightly, clenching his hands again. Something crinkles – balled up plastic in Kageyama's hand.

"What's that?" Iwaizumi asks.

"Ha – " Kageyama stops, swallows hard, and for a terrifying moment, Iwaizumi thinks he might start to cry. Then he starts again, shouting – " _Have a good winter break, Iwaizumi-san!_ "

Kageyama is bowing low, holding out the balled up plastic: a shopping bag.

Stunned, and catching on slowly, Iwaizumi steps properly into the clubhouse and takes it, feeling something small and heavy inside. Ignoring the receipt still in the bag, Iwaizumi pulls out a tiny, silver charm. It's round, and as Iwaizumi watches it dangle from his fingers, he realizes is a volleyball. 

Kageyama is still bowing, but he's moved his hands to his shorts, gripping them tightly, obviously distressed. 

Iwaizumi thinks of Oikawa. Oikawa gets gifts all the time, practically every game. Iwaizumi remembers his reactions: big smiles, loudly thankful, and generous with praise.

Iwaizumi almost attempts this, but he can't summon that kind of energy inside himself, doesn't even know how to try, and he's pretty sure it's not something Kageyama would want, anyway.

Instead, he nods, lifting it higher for a better look. "Cool."

He knows it was the right reaction when Kageyama finally snaps back up, a blush and relieved smile on his face. "I have one, too," he says, and pulls his bag to the front, pointing at the charm on the handle. "They match."

Iwaizumi inhales shortly, composing himself. 

"Nice," he says, casually. "Thanks for thinking of me, Tobio. Have a nice break too, alright?"

Kageyama bows shortly, serious again, and hurries out of the room.

 _Fuck._ Iwaizumi glares down at the charm clenched in his fist. Fuck, that was cute. 

He can't let this last – it will stop as soon as he leaves the clubhouse, it's the moment, and that's all. That's _all_. 

But it is a very nice moment.

Oikawa's instincts can seem almost supernatural, and the way his eyes immediately lock on the charm when they meet up again is one of those times. 

Oikawa needles him about it, and it's pure luck that he abruptly pulls back as he's going in for the kill. He's too aware of his own jealousy and over-corrects, letting it drop and pouting impotently instead. Maybe it's cruel, but Iwaizumi lets him. 

He knows what it means, and what it can never mean. But he can have this memento, he's allowed it.

~

There wouldn't have been any conflict in Iwaizumi if he had been close to Oikawa and Kageyama at once, but... as much as he tries not to spoil Oikawa, he knows that would've been just one more demon for him to fight off, one more insecurity, one more reason to fear a first year, and Iwaizumi wasn't going to put him through that. If it was a question of one or the other – well, then, it was never a question at all.

"Have you talked to Oikawa?"

"They took his phone, but I still had Kageyama's number," Iwaizumi says, holding up his own phone, and seeing he has… three missed calls. He grimaces.

"Poor Hajime-kun has to actually check his phone now," Matsukawa mocks, lightly. 

Iwaizumi gives a rude gesture but otherwise ignores him. Kindaichi twice and an unknown number. "Did you tell Kindaichi what happened?"

"No, but Oikawa's mom made a post about an accident," Matsukawa says. "It's getting around. I left a message with Hanamaki to call as soon as he wakes up, but he has make up exams today, so – "

Iwaizumi's phone vibrates with a new call, and they both stare at it.

It's the unknown number, calling for a third time that night. If left to his own devices, Iwaizumi would let it ring, but Matsukawa is watching him with that lazy, effortlessly judgmental stare.

He brings the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

There's a loud argument happening on the other line, voices heard from a distance.

" - did I say??"

"But we're lost!"

"We're not _lost_ , there's a map right here – "

"Hinata!! Did you actually call – " 

Suddenly, a vaguely familiar voice is speaking directly into his ear. "Sorry about all this!! Goodbye!"

"Uh." Iwaizumi looks down at his phone, and sees the call has ended. "Huh."

"Who was it?" Matsukawa asks.

"I... think it was Karasuno." 

As a very young child, Iwaizumi's favorite book was about a group of animals escaping their cages at the zoo one night, and marching down the street. The best part was at the very end, when the lion kicked down the door to the zookeeper's office, the elephant trumpeting so loudly that both the zookeeper's hat and hair flew right off his head.

Iwaizumi is reminded of this when Karasuno explodes into the waiting room a few moments later, with such a shocking burst of energy it wakes Oikawa's father from his sleep with a startled snort. 

"Kageyama Tobio??" the little orange cannonball says, dashing to the front desk with that unnatural speed, slapping his hands on to it and jumping up into their face, before the back up setter – Sugawara? Former third year, not on the team anymore – pulls him back. 

"Sorry about that," Sugawara says, bowing slightly. "Our friend was brought in, and we were hoping to see him."

"Um," the nurse glances between them, obviously unnerved. "Kageyama Tobio isn't able to have any visitors at the moment, at – at the moment only beta – "

"There aren't any betas in his family!!" Hinata, again, and Sugawara, again, pushes him back, away from the desk. Another member of Karasuno – tallish, with a closely shaved head, tags in, dragging Hinata over to the chairs and sits him down. 

"Oi, what did we say the whole train ride up here, dummy?" he says, bopping Hinata on the head before returning to the help desk. _Ryu_ , Iwaizumi suddenly remembers being called from the crowd. Tanaka Ryu. Wing spiker.

"How long until he can have visitors??" Hinata shouts, staying where he was put on the chair but immediately going up to his knees, turning around. 

"What do you think we're asking, dumbass?!"

" _Calm down,_ we're in a hospital."

"I am!! I'm very calm!!"

Matsukawa shifts back in his seat, entertained. "I always just assumed they worked themselves up for games..."

Hinata turns at the sound of Matsukawa's voice, apparently just realizing they're not alone in the waiting room. 

The last time Iwaizumi spoke to this guy off the court, he was so spooked it was like trying to talk to a bug, scurrying around on the ground after turning on a light. Maybe that was just pre-game jitters, because instead of the explosive, panicked reaction he's expecting, Hinata suddenly grows quieter, more intense.

"Iwaizumi-san – uh," he looks at Matsukawa a bit blankly. "Middle blocker-san." Matsukawa snorts. "Do you know anything?? Is Kageyama okay?"

"Last I heard, he was asleep."

This was the wrong thing to say. Hinata zeros in on Iwaizumi, jumps from the chair across the waiting room, taking up the one beside Iwaizumi. Again, an alpha's sense of smell is nothing compared to omegas, but Hinata's scent is so strong Iwaizumi feels a little bowled over – it's unusual for an alpha, a very comforting scent, and Iwaizumi has a sudden memory of falling asleep in a basket of clean laundry as a child. It's oddly uplifting, and therefore unsettling. 

"What did you hear? When? Was it from the Grand King? How bad is Kageyama, can he still play – "

"You should save your questions for Kageyama."

"He's not answering any texts," Hinata says, still oddly serious. "Is Oikawa-san answering yours? He's with Kageyama, right?"

"Hinata!" Sugawara shouts from across the lobby. "Personal space!"

Hinata pouts like a small child might, pulling back from where he'd been taking Iwaizumi's unoccupied armrest.

 **Me** :  
kageyama's friends are here

The response is almost immediate. 

**Karasuno Kageyama:**  
Tobio-chan is awake  
but he doesn't want to talk to anyone

Iwaizumi's thumbs hover over the keys, ready to ask if he's sure it's not actually _Oikawa_ that doesn't want to give up the phone, but for some reason it feels wrong, too harsh or too soon or something. Oikawa's tone is still an unsettling thing and Iwaizumi knows better than to rush into a minefield.

It's more convincing when a second text comes in a moment later.

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
╮( ˘ ､ ˘ )╭

Iwaizumi glances back up to see Hinata still watching with piercing, intent eyes. 

He knows. 

He knows Iwaizumi has information, just got _more_ of it, and is trying to figure out how to get it out of him. 

Iwaizumi wonders how he would handle it if someone was withholding information about Oikawa. Not nearly as calm, he's sure.

Hinata continues staring until the rest of the team comes over, jostling Hinata and breaking the eye contact. As they sit down, Iwaizumi realizes it's literally just the three of them – Tanaka, Sugawara, and Hinata, they just have such a loud presence that it had seemed like more.

"You three are – Kageyama Tobio's friends?" Oikawa's father asks, gamely. 

"Yes," Sugawara says, bowing slightly, and they introduce themselves. 

As they talk, Iwaizumi boggles, yet again, at how sullen Kageyama had found a home with these people. 

Though, that might have been the thing. Even as a first year Kageyama was introverted, focusing most of his energy inward, and it ended up poisoning him. In a team like this, it would be impossible for negative feelings to fester unsaid - they'd be poked and prodded, tested and pushed, dragged kicking and screaming into the sunlight. Whatever the case, it's obviously healed something in Kageyama, these rambunctious idiots that won't take no for an answer. 

It's still an incredibly irritating thing, though.

"We still don't know what happened," Hinata says as soon as there's an opening for it in the conversation, looking to Iwaizumi again.

"I'm sure if our friend knew anything, he'd tell us," Tanaka says, smiling a sort of shark-like grin. 

"Don't you two have school today?" Matsukawa asks. Both of them flinch. 

"This is more important!"

"You told Sawamura-san only betas could visit, but no one in Kageyama's family is a beta!" Hinata says. "But – "

"Suga-san is!!"

They both point at the beta that sits between them, and Sugawara waves once, a little sheepishly.

"You're a beta?" Iwaizumi asks. He distinctly remembers Sugawara in an omega uniform during games. 

"Ah, well. There was a mix up during my first year with the uniforms," Sugawara says, vaguely, but considering that super-sized ace omega, Iwaizumi can easily fill in the blanks himself. "It ended up sticking."

Iwaizumi's father always called betas lucky. They're the rarest of the classifications and most betas Iwaizumi's met, like Ushijima, and Kunimi, and both of Oikawa's sisters, tend to have annoyingly calm temperaments, a sort of mellow, steady ease with themselves that he sees in Sugawara now, the reason he was able to carefully cut through Aoba Johsai's defense so accurately. 

He also remembers the easy way Kageyama and Sugawara spoke to one another during their first match with Aoba Johsai. He'd never seen anyone ease Kageyama out of a tailspin like that before, the tension and anger had literally melted off, pulling him out of that reptilian brained panic that had so thoroughly alienated Kunimi and Kindaichi.

This is good news, Iwaizumi decides. 

"And Sugawara-san will tell us what happened to Kageyama," Hinata says.

"Hinata," Sugawara says. His tone is soft, obviously trying to pull him into a private conversation. "I think you should consider the possibility that Kageyama might not be comfortable with everyone knowing yet." 

"Well, yeah," Hinata says, oblivious. "Kageyama isn't comfortable with _anything_."

Tanaka's eyes narrow. Iwaizumi's sure he has the answer, but probably doesn't want to actually go there. "You don't think – "

A door just out of view opens, and Iwaizumi knows this because it slams, hard, into the wall. Kageyama's mother comes walking out at that same brisk pace as before, this time holding her phone. 

"Kageyama-san," the doctor says, hurrying after. "Please, I know this is – a surprise, but – "

"A _surprise_?" She repeats, dangerous, and her dark, chilling aura swamps the room. "Claiming a _forced bond_ is the only treatment for 'at least four alphas' _raping_ my son – "

" _Hey_."

Kageyama's mother swings her gaze from the doctor to Iwaizumi.

"This room is full of Kageyama's teammates," Iwaizumi says, waving a hand toward the Karasuno players. Both Tanaka and Hinata look sucker-punched, Sugawara dropping his head to his hands. "If you want to fight about this, do it somewhere else." 

She gazes travels from the team back to Iwaizumi, and he can't quite read her expression, but her scent is something threatening at least, and both Iwaizumi and Matsukawa tense instinctively. 

"It's not the best news," Oikawa's father says, grimacing through the tension, arms crossed, pointedly not rising to the challenge. "I haven't been able to find anything about this – partial bond either. It sounds rare. To be frank, I don't think there's going to be any happy solution, but I assume there's a reason why your son and mine started to form it in the first place, so. Letting them see that through is probably the least harmful thing I can think of right now."

"… You're Oikawa Tooru's father," Kageyama's mother says.

"Yes."

"And who are you, exactly?"

"Iwaizumi Hajime," he says. "Kageyama's old vice-captain."

It feels odd to say, to make any sort of claim on Kageyama, but it's true, even if it was in junior high. It happened.

It's only once Kageyama's mother steps directly in front of Iwaizumi that he realizes she's short, barely reaching his chin.

Not many alphas challenge Iwaizumi head on. Oikawa's father is never so confrontational, and by the time Iwaizumi was old enough to actually be _challenged_ at tournaments, he had found his center as an alpha and was pretty hard to jostle. He feels like he actually feel the flame of Kageyama's mother's rage though, as she tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed. Justified or not, it's – a bit intimidating. He can't really do anything to help Kageyama, right now, he couldn't prevent what happened - all he can do, at the moment, is protect Kageyama's privacy, try to give him some kind of dignity, and he knows she's pushing against him with that same drive to do _something_.

Her will is stronger, and it's only because Iwaizumi has so little experience actually backing down that he keeps it up, and it turns out to be just long enough.

She steps back, putting her phone to her ear. She addresses the doctor, "I'll be pulling my son out of this hospital as soon as I hear back from our own doctor about any other options." 

"Hey!" Hinata suddenly says. "Hey, hey – " he bursts from his seat, running around him and stopping in front of Kageyama's mother before she can leave the room. He stares up at her with almost terrified eyes, like he can't believe he got the guts to do it. "Since Kageyama doesn't have any close beta relatives, we brought one – "

" _What?_ " If she was surprised by _Iwaizumi_ talking back to her, she does not seem to know what to make of Hinata at all, anger actually derailed in her confusion. She looks over her shoulder when he points over to Sugawara.

"Can he go in? To visit Kageyama?"

"Fine," she says, dismissively. "He'll be out of that room soon enough anyway."

~

Iwaizumi had assumed that Hinata, at least, would get louder after finding out what happened, have an endless list of horrified, furious questions, but after Sugawara leaves, both of them get miserably quiet. Hinata curls up in the chair, texting steadily, while Tanaka takes a call after call, standing off to the side having quiet, agitated conversations. They don't talk much, or interject in any of his conversations with Matsukawa.

It's surprisingly hard to sit through, and Iwaizumi is glad for the excuse to hang back for a moment when he gets a call on the way back from the hospital's cafeteria. 

"Hello?" Iwaizumi says. 

"What happened?" Kindaichi blurts out. "Sorry – I heard about Oikawa-san."

Iwaizumi summarizes briefly, barely finishing before Kindaichi impatiently says, "I heard that he wasn't alone."

"Yeah. Kageyama's here, too."

Kindaichi swears shortly. "I saw him."

"What?"

"When we were at the arcade, I saw Kageyama outside. He was walking down the street," Kindaichi says. "He was lost."

"How do you know that?"

Kindaichi scoffs. "He _always_ gets lost."

"Does he?"

"I mean – sometimes," Kindaichi says, backing down immediately, a terrible bluff. Iwaizumi wonders how many times Kindaichi and Kunimi had to track Kageyama down and drag him back to the rest of Kitagawa Daiichi before their senpais or coaches noticed he was missing. "I knew he was lost, I could tell, but I was still angry, I – I just – I didn't say anything. I just… watched him go."

Kindaichi has never been a subtle guy, and the guilt is so heavy it's making his voice shake. "The problem wasn't that Kageyama got lost," Iwaizumi says. "He wasn't mugged when he wandered into an alley, he was on a train. They wanted to hurt him, and waited for the chance to do it. It's not something you could've prevented unless you were planning to escort him home."

"I'm not – I wasn't saying I _should've_ – " 

Iwaizumi waits for him to get his words together. 

"I just..." seems to be the best Kindaichi can do.

"You two have a weird relationship," Iwaizumi finally says.

"I guess."

"A lot of stuff is unresolved."

"Yeah."

Oikawa would probably know what to say. He's good at reading people like this, finding out what they want and either dangling it above their head or handing it over graciously. Iwaizumi is about to try to force something out, maybe about – forgiveness, or alpha responsibility, or – something, when Kindaichi sighs before he can even try.

"Thanks, Iwaizumi-san." 

"No problem," he says, baffled, but he'll take it.

~

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
what's the worst nightmare you ever had?

This particularly cryptic text comes about four nights after the attack, around midnight. 

**Me:**  
Other than what's happening right now?

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
literal nightmare iwa-chan  
bad dream

Iwaizumi has to think. He knows the sensation of waking in a cold sweat, an uncomfortable churning in his gut, the immediate relief once he realizes the cause was never real to begin with, but he's drawing blank on any examples. He picks the first unpleasant dream he can think of. 

**Me** :  
once I dreamed I was stuck under the floorboards in the gym

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
i just dreamed i found a baby bird on the sidewalk  
i stomped it to death  
i could feel it under my foot

Iwaizumi... does not know what to say to this. It's late at night, Iwaizumi's fairly sure that Kageyama and Oikawa have come to an agreement when it comes to Kageyama's phone, as Oikawa's texts now mostly come around midnight, waking Iwaizumi from sleep with usually unsettling messages. 

**Me** :  
yours sounds worse

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
wanna see something?

Iwaizumi's first reaction is _no_ , because at times it feels like he's talking to an irritated viper, every text he gets is like a warning rattle, telling him to get ready for a bite. But of course he can't say no, and he grimaces as he clicks on the image Oikawa sends him, bracing for the worst.

It's a picture of Oikawa's neck. 

… Oh.

Iwaizumi sits up in bed.

Alphas, betas, and omegas all use the same process to bond, but the bites heal differently. A bite from an alpha expands as it heals, leaving a large, oval-ish mark, sometimes taking up the entire side of a neck. An omega bite condenses, they're typically a pale color, unobtrusive enough to sometimes be confused for a birthmark.

Iwaizumi stares, surprised at his own reaction – if he had been warned he was going to be seeing someone else's mate mark on Oikawa's neck, he would've expected to feel rage and pain, but – he's fascinated by the tiny, pale pink mark on the base of Oikawa's throat. 

It's – cute. Iwaizumi realizes he's mouth is slightly open as he stares, and forces it shut, clearing his throat. It suits him. A charming, happy looking thing.

 **Me:**  
what's kageyama's look like?

A thumbprint. He can see it clearly in the picture Oikawa sends next, Kageyama sitting up in bed, a blanket pooled around his waist, expression blank, the wounds on his face looking worse than ever, and giving possibly the most sarcastic peace sign Iwaizumi's ever seen in his life. 

The mark is higher up on Kageyama's neck, just under his ear, and it's small reddish brown. Iwaizumi presses the spot it would be on his own neck, if Oikawa bit there. 

From the marks, he can clearly visualize how the two of them were embracing when it happened, and he feels his face start to heat.

~

Iwaizumi has been masturbating to Oikawa since about the time he realized his dick was dual purpose.

Not exclusively, he's thought of other omegas from time to time, usually just in snippets – a smile during class, or an appealing scent, or the way they moved. Most of what he pictures is vague in that way– the motions, noises and sounds of a very pleasured omega. Sometimes crying, sometimes begging, usually moaning, usually coming.

He usually masturbates in bed, mentally carding through fantasy or memory but tonight, he's at his desk, rewarding himself for finishing an essay, scrolling through an image board. He only seriously started using the internet for this in high school, because most of his initial searches while in junior high resulted in videos he found unsettling. Omega-based porn can be brutal, the omegas often unwilling and hurt, or at least pretending to be, and not appealing to Iwaizumi. Eventually he found animated porn, which is a comfortable step away from reality, something fake and guilt free, even when they lean toward unsavory themes. It's also easier to picture a drawing of an omega with soft brown hair as Oikawa than it is with real life omegas who are distinctly and obviously _not_ , and when he does see the occasional image that makes him think of Oikawa, it's a sharp rush of surprised pleasure, usually leading to an especially satisfying climax.

He's going at it lazily, stroking his dick slow and steady until he finds a topic that appeals – _Sporty omegas_ , yes. Hard to do better than that. He milks his dick faster, scrolling down the images, omegas peeling off soaked swimsuits, breasts shaking through tight, transparent jerseys, a tennis racket slick, dripping between dark thighs – 

The resemblance of the character in the next picture is so eerily on point, for a second he actually thinks he's looking at a drawing of Kageyama. Shiny, short, dark hair, dark blue eyes, staring right at Iwaizumi with arousal and desperation, legs spread wide, straddling a pommel horse. 

Iwaizumi comes before he can even really process what he's looking at.

Once sanity returns and his eyes clear, he sees it's more of a vague likeness than what his worked up mind had imagined. It's a drawing of a girl, even, just with an especially flat chest and a similar hair style. 

Iwaizumi catches his breath, closes the window, throws out the tissue, and is unsettled. But why? Kageyama _is_ an omega, he reminds himself, and only a few years younger – it's hardly even a notable age gap. And it wasn't even a picture of Kageyama. The unnameable annoyance with himself doesn't do anything to diminish the tingling satisfaction from the climax, though, and as he lays down in bed, he can still feel it. If he pushed it, if he kept riding that surprised, breathless arousal from seeing Kageyama's face, he thinks he could manage a knot, something he's only done when picturing Oikawa. 

Of course, he doesn't. 

The next time he's on the image board, a week or so later, he pretends he doesn't really know what he's looking for when he sees _What's better than one omega? Two! omega/omega thread_. It's not like black or brown hair is rare, so it's pretty easy to find what he's - _not_ looking for... but most of the pictures are sweet. A gentle, soft sort of fantasy, and it's just too at odds with reality for Iwaizumi to enjoy. 

He clicks back.

~

 **Me** :  
are they healing alright?  
they look good

 **Karasuno Kageyama:**  
not jealous?

 **Me** :  
sad and angry  
but it suits you

It says he's typing, then stops. 

He waits, but Oikawa doesn't say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the Iwaizumi/Kageyama song i was channeling for this chapter if anyone wants a cool tune https://soundcloud.com/a-little-nothing/right-place-right-time


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS was actually supposed to be longer, I ended up cutting in half because I realized it would be another week at least before I finished the whole thing, and as a reader I know I definitely like as many updates as I can get, lol. SOO there might end up being 3 Kageyama POV chapters, even though the pattern was supposed to be 2, 2, 2.
> 
> ALSO I mentioned in an earlier chapter that readers could skip the rape chapter and still read this but honestly the rape is such a prevalent theme and parts of it are going to be revisited so much, I really don't think that would be possible, so that was irresponsible of me to say and I apologize for that.
> 
> So at the end of this chapter I believe you'll all finally have the basic premise for this story, there's only going to be one more like TWIST/revelation with Iwaizumi, and then it'll be like. All the pieces are in place for the endgame pairing lol.

Kageyama has been scared before, of course.

When he was six, he fell off the roof of his house. He doesn't remember hitting the ground, or the hospital or anything else about it, really, except the feeling of his feet lifting off the surface of the roof. Tipping backward, falling, and then falling turning to _dropping_ , because there was nothing there to stop it, and the fear was so intense and sudden, he couldn't even scream. 

Once, his sister hit a patch of ice while driving, sending the car sliding across a busy street, and all Kageyama could do was cling to his seat-belt with both hands and hold his breath as they spun. 

Once, he saw his mother crying, crumpling a picture of his father so tightly in her hand that it was starting to tear. 

" _S-stop_." 

Tears falling down Oikawa's face, his eyes squeezed shut, begging, is more terrifying than any of it. 

" _Stop, stop – don't –_ " 

~

Kageyama wakes up, swamped by fear, shaking with it, his head throbbing in pain, disoriented. His thoughts are too jumbled to name the thing that had scared him so deeply, but this just makes the fear worse, and he gasps for breath shakily.

"Shh, it's okay – just a few more minutes, alright?"

"He's awake?"

"Yeah, I think so," the voice says, and a soft hand strokes Kageyama's forehead. "Shh, we're almost done."

He doesn't know these voices, or that hand, they belong to strangers. When he tries to flinch away, he realizes he's _stuck_ , he's _strapped_ to something, and the fear rises to panic, the pain in his head cracking down, radiating sharply through his head and neck, throbbing cruelly. 

"Hey – shh, it's okay – you're safe, calm down, honey."

That's a lie, that's a lie. Kageyama is not safe. A sudden, vivid memory of hands where they shouldn't be, fingers between his legs, and under - under his clothes, under his - shirt, r-rubbing, and the nausea is too intense to stop.

"Oh, dear."

"Help him over," someone says, and he's being unstrapped, tipped to his side, a small, warm hand running up and down his back as Kageyama vomits. "Better out than in, there you go." 

Kageyama manages to crack open an eye – there's too much hot, pulsing pressure over the other one to manage both – and sees a tile floor, and the familiar pastel color of hospital scrubs. He pants weakly, suddenly too exhausted to even keep his eye open, rolling to his other side.

"That's a bad sign."

"The scan looks clean so far. I don't think it's a sign of head trauma," says another voice.

"More like _bonding_ trauma," says the first one. 

"I've never seen a disrupted bond before..."

"We'll have to see what the doctor says."

Kageyama's head hurts too violently to open his eyes again, but he attempts to help with shaking hands when something warm and wet – a rag – touches his lips, cleaning his chin. He's being moved, but is too miserable to really understand much of it, until he's brought into a blissfully dark room. 

He smells strawberry. 

A memory of stirring a glass of milk, watching pink swirl into white – pleasant, sweet, a small whisper of relief, and Kageyama swallows on reflex.

"Think you can walk?" the voice asks, gently, an encouraging hand on Kageyama's shoulder. They're nudging him toward the scent, and yes, Kageyama can sit up and take the unsteady step onto the bed, immediately pressing up against the warmth there. A person, the one who smells like sweet, creamy strawberry milk.

Oikawa. 

It's Oikawa's scent, and smelling it brings the memory Kitagawa Daiichi's gym door, the weight of it against his palms, pushing it open, then... a desperate, terrified voice, _S-stop... Stop, stop – don't –_

It's the fear that's been hovering since Kageyama woke. The pain, the fear, what he saw, and what he – f-felt – 

Kageyama wraps both arms tight around his body, trying to confirm nothing's there, no one is touching him. He grits his teeth and feels hot tears start down his face. 

Maybe Oikawa isn't fully awake, his hands on the back of Kageyama's shirt feel clumsy, like they did on the train. Like the train, though, being pulled close brings almost immediate relief. He inhales the scent and the headache gradually fades, each throb lesser than the last. 

He knows Oikawa – the touch is rougher than gentle hand on his forehead before, and Oikawa doesn't say anything, but it's far more reassuring than anything the nurses were saying. There is a very young part of Kageyama that _knows_ , without question, without doubt, that Oikawa can do anything he wants to, and if that thing is keep Kageyama close to him, that's what's going to happen, and Kageyama will be safe. 

~

"Look!!" Hinata says, shoving his phone in Kageyama's face. It's a picture of a Ferris wheel. "It's the biggest one in Japan! It's in Osaka! We should go there after we win!"

Kageyama shoves it away. 

"It takes a half hour to go all the way around," Hinata continues, without missing a beat. "It's that big! Also," Hinata scrolls to the next picture, and shoves it back in Kageyama's face. "It's right beside the biggest aquarium in Japan, too!"

This time Kageyama doesn't bother to push it away, he just turns to look out the window. 

"Oi. Kageyama-kun," Hinata says, his voice going stupid and gruff like he does when he's trying to be serious. "You can't be freaking out about the Grand King, he isn't even there."

"I'm not freaking out."

"Is it Turnip head?"

Kageyama glares at Hinata through the reflection in the window before punching behind him, but it's an awkward angle and it doesn't have any force. Hinata dodges easily, then grabs Kageyama's fist, so Kageyama swings his other one – 

" _Don't fight on the bus!_ " Ennoshita shouts. 

They both freeze, releasing each other immediately. 

"Is that it?" Hinata asks "Is Turnip head your new rival?"

" _No._ " 

"He said he was gonna beat you, he said it, like – three times!"

"… Maybe Kindaichi considers us rivals," Kageyama says, turning back to the window. "But I don't want to beat Kindaichi any more than anyone else."

Kageyama doesn't get angry when he remembers Kindaichi and Kunimi leaving him on the court. He gets sad. Getting sad just makes him feel weak, and directionless, so it's not a good rivalry. It isn't like Oikawa. Oikawa makes him feel a lot of things – fear, and excitement, and ambition, and frustration, and insecurity. Even the bad feelings are actually good, because all of them motivate him to be a better player, push himself harder. 

He presses his forehead against the glass, frowning.

"Are… you gonna _miss_ the Grand King?" Hinata asks.

Kageyama stiffens, embarrassment heating his face from the way Hinata says _miss_ , teasing and sentimental. But then he relaxes, slumping against the window again.

"Yeah," Kageyama says. "I will."

"Hmm," Hinata says. A long, long beat of considering silence. "I think I'll miss him, too."

He's quiet the rest of the ride. 

It's a rhythm Kageyama should be used to, he's never really struggled with changing teams in the past, but it took a while to adjust to training without Sawamura and Asahi, and as they unload the bus Kageyama finds himself missing Sugawara. 

Anyone could ask Sugawara anything, and even if the question was stupid or obvious, Sugawara would answer – even if they didn't really know how to ask yet, Sugawara usually had the missing words. Kageyama doesn't fully understand his gloomy mood, and he thinks talking to Sugawara would help. 

He knows this is the worst time to fall into a slump, too. Ennoshita has earned their trust as captain during fall training, but it's still his first game in the role, and confidence will be especially important, for every member of the team. Just one dark mood can spread, infect players one by one like a cold. It's each player's responsibility to find the right headspace before a game, just like it is to warm up, show up well rested, with all their gear.

He grimaces under the pressure to fix it, and it only makes his mood grow worse. 

"Oi! What's with the grim face?" Tanaka asks as he passes by, slapping Kageyama's back hard enough that he nearly drops his gym bag. 

"Lighten up, it's just volleyball!" Nishinoya laughs loudly, slapping his back even harder on the other side, and this time he does drop it.

Then again, distractions work, too.

~

Kitagawa Daiichi hasn't won the Junior High Athletics Meet since Ushijima enrolled at Shiratorizawa. 

It's frustrating for everyone, and Kageyama wants to beat them, but no one wants it like Oikawa. Ushijima is a third year, like Oikawa, so they'll always be against each other, every single year, even in high school. 

Some of the other third years complain that Shiratorizawa Junior High Academy is in the Miyagi prefecture at all, but Oikawa never does, at least not in front of Kageyama. He's only ever confident: he talks about it like it's inevitable Kitagawa Daiichi will win, like it's already happened, he says _when_ instead of _if_ , and how much he's looking forward to seeing Ushijima's face once he realizes he's lost. 

It's finals now, though, almost at the end of their second set, and it's 13 to 20. 

"Ushijima is serving next," Kindaichi says when the coach calls a timeout. "So that means once we shut him down, he'll be in the back of the rotation for three plays – then it's Oikawa-san's turn to serve! So we'll definitely catch up."

Everyone seems to like this, nodding in agreement, but Kageyama frowns, finding it very odd that Kindaichi would try to act like Ushijima serving is a _good_ thing. 

"What if we can't shut Ushijima down?" Kageyama asks. He didn't say it very loudly or anything, but everyone on the team turns to look at him anyway, like he shouted it, all their smiles dying. 

"What a stupid question, Tobio-chan!" Oikawa laughs.

Kageyama nearly squawks when two hands land on either side of his head, pulling him away from the huddle. 

"Good teams can lose, and weak teams can win," Oikawa says, shaking Kageyama's head back and forth slightly. "Because of what they've got going on in here. Got it?"

" _Yes!_ " Kageyama agrees, quickly, just to get Oikawa to stop. Oikawa can obviously tell, because he doesn't let go.

"The other team _wants_ us to ask stupid questions like that," he says. "Because once we start doing that, we're already planning on losing, _got it_?"

"Okay, okay!" 

"Are you planning on losing, Tobio-chan?"

"No!" Kageyama says, and finally yanks himself free. 

"Do you think we can cut Ushijima off at one, Tobio-chan?"

Kageyama opens his mouth, looking up at Oikawa. Oikawa glares down, his expression tense and expecting, like he's really waiting for Kageyama's answer, like it really _matters_ , and he realizes that his doubt got to Oikawa a bit, too.

"... Yes," Kageyama says. 

"Why?"

"Because," Kageyama licks his lips, and looks over at Kindaichi, and Kunimi, and Iwaizumi, and the others. He knows how good they are, he's seen it himself. Ushijima's serves are strong, but Kageyama knows his team _could_ stop them – and they will. "We have a strong team."

They're just words, but he means them, and apparently they can tell.

Kageyama watches Kitagawa Daiichi's mood change, almost like magic. His teammates stand taller, like weight has been lifted from their shoulders, their expression growing focused and confident. He looks between Oikawa and the rest of the team in surprise. Oikawa knew his words could do that – Kageyama didn't even know, but Oikawa _did_. It's not possible, really, but sometimes it seems like Oikawa-san does know _everything_. 

They do shut Ushijima down, cutting him off at one serve, then, just like Kindaichi said, hold out until Oikawa gets to serve. They win the set, but end up losing the game.

~

"Who're we playing next?"

"Looks like… Sarayashiki," Tanaka says, searching on the roster. "Gym 4."

Ennoshita groans softly. 

"What?"

"Are they strong?" Hinata asks, clearly hoping the answer is yes.

"Not sure," Ennoshita says. "Their school is a powerhouse in baseball and a few other sports, but they've never really taken off in volleyball… I heard the captain started recruiting students from other clubs this season. Players that were benched because their own teams were so large, or kicked off because of behavioral problems."

"That's dumb," Hinata says. "Baseball is nothing like volleyball."

"That's what I thought," Ennoshita says. "But they did make it to the second tier…"

"And that's where we'll knock them out," Tanaka says, grinning. 

Kageyama can feel a dark, answering grin staring to build inside himself, feels a similar energy in the rest of the team – 

"Need help with your bag?" 

The mood drops. 

All of Karasuno turns to look at the alpha who suddenly appeared next to Tsukishima. Not exactly _small,_ he's an average height, but at least a head shorter than Tsukishima.

Kageyama can't see the expression on Tsukishima's face as he looks down at the alpha, but it's obviously unpleasant from the way the alpha shrivels in on himself, twitching like he wants to run. 

"Gym 4," Tsukishima reminds them, turning away without a word to the alpha.

Tanaka and Nishinoya underscore the rejection with intense, goonish mugging as the rest of them keep walking.

Several teams stop as they head to their next game, staring openly.

 _Karasuno,_ Kageyama hears them murmur, then _nationals_ , then _omegas_. He can feel Hinata's chest puffing up with pride as he walks alongside him, glancing up at Kageyama occasionally with open admiration. It gets so embarrassing that eventually Kageyama's forced to slug his shoulder.

"Ow!!! What was that for?"

"Stop it."

"I just like that we have a strong team!" Hinata scowls, rubbing at his shoulder. And everyone knows it."

"It _is_ a little better that last year," Yamaguchi says.

Kageyama grunts. There was a lot of taunting last year, a lot of condescending pity. Even when they made it to a serious, competitive level in the games, opponents were still treating them like a joke or a novelty. Kageyama will be happy if that's all over.

They find a team of tall, wide players in gym 4. Sarayashiki is loud, and they say gross things, and Kageyama feels each word testing his focus like an obnoxious pebble getting flicked at his head. 

" _Be my omega, step on my face~_ " 

Kageyama hates taunts like that, _weird_ ones. He'd rather be told he sucked, or asked if he's gotten lost on his way to cheer on his alpha, or anything else that's straightforward, because last time he got Nishinoya to explain a _weird_ one, it had been way dirtier than he expected and he can only assume the rest are the same, even though he's pretty sure this time there really can't be anything perverted about asking for someone's smelly foot on their face. It's just – _weird_.

"If the little prince needs a seat during the game, he can use my face ~"

Weird – and definitely perverted, because _all_ the third years react to that, even Ennoshita drops the ball he's holding. 

"Shut up!" Hinata shouts.

"If they didn't want us to look, they wouldn't be walking around in that slutty uniform!"

"Oi," Tsukishima says, tossing a volleyball toward Kageyama's face sharply. He barely catches it in time, annoyed, until he sees Tsukishima's expression. 

Tsukishima has a way of smiling with just his eyes, and a turn of his head. It is a very, very mean smile, and Kageyama looks over at Sarayashiki again, ignoring their taunts and actually watching the warm up. 

... There's no balance. They can probably all spike as strong as Asahi, but he doesn't see any real speed, or any impressive receives. He can't even tell who the setter is.

The Iron Wall is supported tirelessly by the rest of their diverse team, filling in the holes left by having three giants that specialize in blocking. Even super ace Ushijima needed to have a team built around him. Sarayashiki has no support that Kageyama can see, and the holes only get more and more blatant as the warm ups continue.

Yamaguchi is nice, and he doesn't think about things like this, and Asahi was probably too nervous to ever bother – and they've never spoken about it out loud, but Kageyama knows Tsukishima understands the very specific bliss of shutting down alpha players, especially very unpleasant ones. 

Kageyama shares his own mean grin with Tsukishima, and for once it's the two of them jogging out to the court first instead of Hinata. 

This is going to be fun.

~

Oikawa wore an omega uniform in junior high, and Kageyama had done the same without thinking twice about it. 

Things were different after Oikawa graduated to high school, though, and Kageyama was the only omega on the team, often in the entire tournament. Oikawa knows how to get people to treat him kindly, and make them regret it when they don't. Kageyama doesn't, and without the implied protection of Oikawa, he found the number of nasty taunts only growing by the year. 

At Karasuno, he's handed a sheet to order his uniform, and he realizes it's a chance pick something different, if he wants to. Something that would get less attention. It sounds like hiding, though, and that makes him scowl.

"Are you… trying to make other players underestimate you?"

Sugawara looks up in surprise. Tanaka overhears Kageyama's question and glares, immediately ready to fight. He thinks it was an insult and Kageyama bites his tongue, scowling, defensive. He doesn't have the words to explain himself and he's still got bad habits from his last team. He wants to shout, but holds it in.

Sugawara spots the order form in Kageyama's hand and it visibly clicks on is face. "Ah. By dressing like an omega?"

Kageyama nods shortly, both thankful and embarrassed. 

"No," Sugawara says. "It wouldn't work very well either, most alphas go harder on omegas, if anything."

"Oh."

Sugawara sets aside the mop he was cleaning with, and hops up to sit on the platform Kageyama was writing on. "Did Hinata ever tell you why he started playing?"

Kageyama rolls his eyes. Hinata tells _everyone_. "The Little Giant." 

"He saw a short player," Sugawara says. "And he's short, so anytime anyone says to him that he can't play, he remembers that the Little Giant _did_. So, I think, if people see more omegas playing, it might help them believe they can play, too."

Kageyama looks down at the uniform order form. 

Kageyama's mother had to drive to Kageyama's school in elementary and yell at both the gym teacher and the principal so that Kageyama could play on the team. She had to do it at the start of every year, and again when the gym teacher retired and they brought in a new one. He knows he's lucky, because a lot of parents wouldn't have bothered even if they didn't mind their omega playing a sport.

"Plus," Sugawara leans down, pretending to whisper but the next thing he says is loud, and he looks directly at their ace, who is rolling up the net. "Asahi was too shy to be the only one wearing it."

" _Hey!_ " he says, blushing. 

"But either one is good!" Sugawara says. "Whatever one you'll play best in is the one you should pick, I think."

~

"As promised," Ukai says. Both he and Takeda are smiling, but neither of them look especially happy. "You received more than a third of the serves today, so you get your pick of where you want to go in Osaka before going home."

"We're going on the Ferris wheel!! Then the aquarium, then – "

"The park!!"

"Ferris wheel, aquarium," Ukai grimaces. "Then the park," he says. "Then we'll head – "

"There's an ice cream shop in Naniwa serving _cactus_ flavor all this week – "

"Amerikamura's got a new show – " 

"Can we go to Spa World?!"

"Ah!! Spa World!" Hinata gasps when he hears that, eyes shining. "Kageyama, we'll go there instead of the Ferris Wheel."

"I want to watch the rest of the tournament." 

Everyone stares at Kageyama, like they think it was a really bad joke, but it wasn't, so he just stares back. Spa World sounds like fun, but there are teams outside of Miyagi prefecture here. He's excited at the chance to see them play. 

"Alright," Ukai says, rubbing at his forehead. "Kageyama, I think there's two more rounds – you can stay until the end, then catch the bullet train home? It's right outside." 

Kageyama nods, and stops listening as the rest of the team is split up into groups. 

Hinata is annoyed that Kageaya didn't go with him to Spa World, and makes faces at him as he leaves, saying he's going to send lots of pictures to make Kageyama jealous, then Kageyama reminds him that taking photos in a spa is illegal, and he'll just get arrested for being a pervert. 

The last two rounds are powerhouse schools and they're both solid, intense games. Kageyama is excited – at first he's only watching to compare against Karasuno, to see how they stack up, but soon he gets distracted by the games themselves, impressed by the new and different playing styles. He thinks Hinata would've liked this, too, and it seems like Hinata was thinking along the same lines, because there are messages waiting by the time the last game ends.

 **Hinata** :  
Still at spawrold!!  
u should come!!!!!!!  
Is the tournament over yet?  
COME TO SPA WORLD!!!!!

 **Me** :  
ok

 **Hinata** :  
(➲ ᗜ ➲)!!!!!!!!!!  
c u soon yamayama!!!!!!!!!

Kageyama scoffs. He walks out of the auditorium with the rest of the crowd, looking up directions to Spa World on his phone, but he gets overwhelmed by the dizzying mass of unfamiliar, tiny side streets. He decides to simply follow the arrows at the top, turning his phone a few different ways to try to orient it correctly. He knows he messed up when the Spa World dot gets smaller, and further away, after he walks a block.

He turns around to head the other direction, and his phone struggles to adjust to the change of direction, and then dies.

Kageyama stares down at the black screen, feeling _betrayed_ , then glances around his surroundings properly for the first time – the crowd passing around him, the utterly unfamiliar streets and buildings. He turns around, and when he realizes he can't even spot the Osaka auditorium, starts to feel a little nervous. 

But, he has his charger in his bag, and there's no way Osaka doesn't have outlets. He keeps calm, clenching his dead phone in his hand as he wanders deeper into Osaka in search of a coffee shop. It doesn't take long at all, and he quickly sits down at a table with an outlet beside it. 

They must be used to people in this situation, though, because as he pulls out his charger, a waitress comes over and tells him loitering isn't allowed, and he'll have to buy something in order stay. 

He walks up to the register with the intention of getting chocolate milk, one of the few things that he can actually recognize on the menu, but the beta at the register wonders if he'd like a chocolate mocca instead. The suggestion is a startling and exciting one, and he says yes. Some of his classmates drink coffee regularly, but he never has, it never really occurred to him to even try it, and he feels very daring as he takes the cup back to his table.

This feeling dies after the first sip. 

The sugary chocolate isn't nearly enough to cover the drink's overwhelmingly bitter taste, and he sets it down on the table with a grimace. He doesn't even have water to wash it out of his mouth.

"Here alone?" an alpha asks, smiling sweetly from the table across from him. 

Kageyama glances first at her, then to the empty chair across from him.

She smiles again. "So am I. You go to school out here?"

"No," Kageyama says. "I'm in Osaka for a tournament."

"Ah, should've guessed from the uniform!" she says. "You know, I love sporty omegas."

Kageyama nods, because he can tell she wants a response, and he guesses what she said wasn't objectionable. 

She laughs lightly. "I love shy omegas, too." She winks.

Kageyama feels his face heat, realizing that she is flirting. He presses a little roughly on his phone, hoping to see it turn on, but it's still charging, stuck on the logo screen.

"Are you enjoying the city?"

"It's big," he says, annoyed as he remembers the confusing map on his phone.

"... How old are you?"

"Sixteen," he says, because he basically is, just a few months away.

" _Ah_ ," she says, eyebrows flying upward, demeanor changing completely. "You're, ah – tall for your age."

"Yeah."

"Isn't it a little – late for you to be out alone? Downtown?"

"I'm meeting up with my friends after my phone charges."

"Good, good," she says, looking genuinely comforted by that. "Well, better hurry before some alphas decide to snatch you up anyway!"

He grunts vaguely at that, and she thankfully decides to leave him alone from there. By the time his phone turns on again, there are messages waiting.

 **Hinata** :  
ಠ╭╮ಠ  
going home now yamayamam  
u SUCK!!!!!!  
hey ask ur mom if we can go to spa world next wekend or s omething

 **Me** :  
Maybe

 **Hinata** :  
its so cool u can stay in the hotel  
and theres food  
and 3 pools 2 slides  
u can tell me what the omega spas look like!!!!!  
also  
tanaka wants 2 know where u are  
so do I!!!! young man!!! ಠ~ಠ 

**Me** :  
on my way home

He waits for Hinata to ask what took so long, already defensive about having to admit he got lost, but he just starts going on about Spa World again. 

Kageyama decides not to risk his phone dying by looking up directions, wandering a little hopelessly until he sees signs posted along the main street, with an arrow pointing to the bullet train. He's eventually forced to walk through the busiest areas of Osaka, which is uncomfortably full of older, drunk people. He's been tall enough to get looks since he was in junior high, and he's used to the blank, lingering stares, but he blushes hard when he sees a beta and omega making out in public, grinding against each other lewdly. 

He wishes his team was with him – even if it was just Hinata, the scene would turn into something to snicker at, but instead he just shuffles by with his hands in his pockets, miserably. 

~

"How are your teammates?"

"I like them," Kageyama says. "Kindaichi thinks I can be a setter, I want to do that after Oikawa-san leaves."

"Kindaichi is the beta?" his mother asks.

"No," Kageyama says. "Kunimi. Kindaichi is an alpha."

"Do you like Kindaichi?"

Kageyama frowns.

"Pfft," his mother laughs, glancing in the review mirror. "Look at that pout, my god. I guess not?"

"No," Kageyama says, but he's not mad about that, he's mad because it reminds him about the bus, about how everyone was making fun of him, saying he likes volleyballs, and not people. He frowns tighter. "I don't want to talk about that stuff."

"Alright," his mother says, still sounding amused. "To be honest, I'm a little relieved you're a late bloomer." 

Kageyama grows quiet, wondering if she's going to talk about his father, and bonds, and other sad things.

"After that alpha in preschool – "

" _Mom_ ," Kageyama slumps against the window, not interested in this topic at _all_ , because he was just a baby and didn't know any better, and it wasn't even his idea, and his mother just likes to see him get upset anyway.

He can hear her smile as she keeps going. "I thought junior high was going to be a nightmare!"

" _Stop_ ," he says. 

"No, really," she says, voice serious again. "Keep your head out of all that nonsense as long a you can, Tobio. Omegas need alphas like a fish needs a bicycle." 

Kageyama runs his finger down the side of the window, thinking. Thinking about Oikawa's winking face, and the way he smiled when he said _of course!_ he likes other omegas.

"What about omegas?" he asks. "Like. Omega liking another omega? Is that alright?"

They're at a stoplight, so his mother can put her forehead against the steering wheel, sighing heavily. "I just jinxed it, didn't I? Yes, Tobio," she says. "And I was joking, before. You can like whoever – whatever. It's all alright."

Kageyama nods, fiddling with window latch, and doesn't think about anything in particular, because it's a pretty boring topic overall, really.

~

"You human yet?"

Kageyama is resting against someone's warm chest, blinking awake slowly. His face is aching and sore, like he took a spike to the cheek, and he groans slightly as he lifts his head. 

He's jarred to immediate and full wakefulness at the sight of _Oikawa's face_. 

He makes some stupid, gurgled noise of surprise, but Oikawa ignores it.

"Anyone tell you what's going on?" he asks.

Kageyama shakes his head. 

"We need to finish bonding."

"Bond.. ing?"

"Guess I buried the lead," Oikawa says, blowing at some of his floppy bangs in his eyes. "We started to bond."

"… We're _bonded_?" Kageyama asks, his understanding and feeling of horror rising together. 

"Almost," Oikawa says. "If we keep trying. You're so cute when you're sleeping so maybe you should just go back to doing that and we'll finish in no time!" He pinches Kageyama's cheek. Kageyama yanks back.

"Wh- _when_?" Kageyama demands, fear intense enough to make his eyes sting as he sits up onto his knees. He looks down and sees they're both wearing hospital gowns, and he can taste the nasty remains of his sickness earlier. " _Why?_ "

"Don't get so enthused, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, squirming like a child trying to get comfortable, pulling blankets up to cover the side Kageyama left. "My ego's big enough as it is."

"A bond isn't something to joke about, Oikawa-san!"

"I'm _not_ joking," Oikawa says.

They glare at each other, and Kageyama realizes he's breathing heavily. 

"Seriously, you're reacting worse than I did."

"Bonds – aren't something to joke about!" Kageyama repeats, miserably. When his mother finds out... Kageyama nearly sways, several realizations hitting him all at once. _Bonded_. Oikawa raises an eyebrow.

"You're really freaked out."

"You're not?!"

"We all cope differently, Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, lightly. "But you'll be the one telling the doctor if you decide not to try. They seemed to think it was very important."

"I need to – I need – " Kageyama says, shaking his head as he crawls backward, off the bed, following a building desire for escape, to get clean, and have some privacy. "I need to shower."

Oikawa gestures vaguely behind him, and Kageyama sees an attached bathroom. "I don't know if there's a washroom in there, though."

Kageyama stumbles a bit on his feet, swaying again. _Back to bed_ , his body immediately warns him, back to Oikawa's warmth and scent, but Kageyama ignores it and keeps going. 

It is a washroom, and it's western style, the kind he saw in the international hotel they stayed at when Karasuno went to nationals, with the bathtub and shower combined, and the shower head mounted high on the wall, unable to move. 

Kageyama swallows weakly as he braces himself against the side of the tub, yanking off the paper-like gown. By the time he gets in the tub, his balance has suffered so much that he doesn't even attempt to stand, simply sitting there under the warm spray.

It feels like there's nothing in his mind but high pitched static - he can't think, but cannot relax, and the anxiousness only builds the longer he sits there.

He remembers the awful, dizzy, throbbing headache he first woke up with at the hospital and knows, now, it wasn't the result of a head injury like the doctors were afraid. It was the bond, screaming to be completed, and this is the start of it happening again. _He'll fight it!_ Kageyama decides. _He'll outlast it!_ But as soon as he thinks that especially stupid thought, he hears Oikawa's unimpressed voice. _Can you count, Tobio-can?_ He remembers the brutal _slam_ onto the floor of the train, struggling to breathe through blood, held down by someone he _can't_ fight - he bites down on his fist, chest shaking.

 _Back to bed, back to bed_ , his body demands in response, as if that will help with the terrible memories in his head, the need growing until it's fogging up his mind. He left something _important_ there, something he _needs_ , it will _help_. The fact that it's Oikawa, and he logically knows he doesn't need Oikawa for anything, doesn't shut the voice up at all. The privacy of the shower feels more like being trapped, something pressing down around him, and he knows its the cause of his headache starting up again. 

The curtain is suddenly pulled back violently – the relief of seeing Oikawa standing there is so intense Kageyama nearly sobs. 

He doesn't seem to be doing any better than Kageyama, leaning heavily against the wall, pulling off his gown with one clumsy hand and stepping heavily into the tub beside him. 

"Move," Oikawa grunts, but he doesn't really say how, and there's really nowhere for Kageyama to go, but they slowly settle into something of a comfortable position, pressed closely together, Oikawa's head against his shoulder as he shudders in long, shaking breaths, occasionally clinging tight enough to Kageyama to bruise.

He needs Kageyama. 

The realization is so strange Kageyama doesn't know what to do with the thought, other than place it in a very prominent place in his mind and consider it from a distance. 

Oikawa – _needs_ him. 

"Sorry," he says, though he doesn't know why. Oikawa doesn't ask. They sit under the warm spray for a while, long enough that Kageyama could almost fall asleep again, feeling warm and safe. Instead, Oikawa stands up. 

"Here," he says, passing Kageyama the shampoo, which reminds Kageyama of – the mess in his hair. 

He takes it, climbs to his feet and grits his teeth, closing his eyes tight as he works the foam in, unable to stop the distressed, strangled, choking noise when his fingers brush against a patch of clumped, filthy hair, disgust traveling through his body, freezing him up. 

Oikawa knocks Kageyama's hands away and takes over with a short, put upon sigh, scrubbing Kageyama's hair thoroughly. Kageyama allows it, reminded of baths he took as a young child with his sister, and that, plus the building need to have as much contact with Oikawa as possible, calms Kageyama down significantly, even when Oikawa roughly swaps places with him, pushing Kageyama under the shower head.

Despite everything, Kageyama pauses rinsing his hair to watch, curious to see Oikawa's own hair washing routine. Disappointingly, it isn't especially different from his own. 

"What were you expecting?" Oikawa scoffs, working the shampoo into his hair, and Kageyama shrugs vaguely. Oikawa frowns after looking around the bathroom. "Well, there's no conditioner. Do you use that?"

"No," Kageyama says. 

"There you have it," Oikawa says, having to bend to get his hair under the spray. "I use Tsubaki." 

When his hair dries, it's still as floppy and shiny as ever even without his Tsubaki conditioner, but Oikawa seems unhappy with it, continually running his fingers through it and frowning.

They've been given some hospital scrubs to change into, but they're too small for either of them, and Oikawa rolls up the legs to make proper, knee-length shorts. Kageyama's dirty clothes have been taken away, but his gym bag is sitting beside a dresser, and he digs through it to find his phone. He has to scroll past several messages about Spa World to get to the newest ones.

 **Hinata** :  
text when you get home ok  
did u get on the wrong train again haha  
did u take earlier train???  
Tanaka is gonna call the cops!!!!!!!!!  
cuz it's so late!!!!!!!!!!!  
seriously!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
NO JOKE!!!!!!!!  
ANSWER BAKAYAMA!!!!!

 **Me** :  
not going home tonight  
at the hospital 

**Hinata** :  
NOT FUNNY!!!!! ヾ(｡｀Д´｡)ﾉ

 **Me** :  
it wasn't supposed to be  
something happened on the train home

 **Hinata** :  
what happened??? Are u ok???  
what happened??  
where r u????????  
t  
What happened???? r u alone??  
does ur mom know?????  
r u bleeding?? r you okay????????  
KGAYAMAA!

 **Me** :  
Oikawa's here

 **Hinata** :  
WHAT?????????????????????????

Kageyama actually winces when he gets the text, unable to handle Hinata's energy. He silences his phone, flipping it face down on the mattress.

"Your mom?" Oikawa asks.

"No," Kageyama says. "A friend."

"Tobio-chan has friends," Oikawa says, and seems genuinely surprised. Kageyama glares. "Oh – was it Chibi-chan?"

Kageyama doesn't answer, but Oikawa lets it go, doesn't seem to truly care, maybe only needling Kageyama out of habit. 

He's still messing with his hair, and honestly seems more concerned about it than anything else, including their bond, which he talks about like it's nothing, no big deal at all. "They think it'll take a week if it's stubborn, but that's not too long, hm? A nice vacation from classes. Once we finish bonding, we'll have a year to figure out the rest of it."

Kageyama sits up. "A... temporary bond?" he asks. He's never heard of something like that.

"No, it'll be a real one, but that's when they think it'll be stable enough to sever," Oikawa says.

"Sever?" Kageyama repeats, numbly.

"Really?" Oikawa asks, pulling his bangs down between two fingers, narrowing his eyes at it accusingly. "You looked like you were about the jump out the window when I said we _had_ to bond, now you're upset about it severing?"

"That's what makes it so bad!" Kageyama shouts, then feels stupid, because the room is already silent, it's late, this is a hospital – Oikawa doesn't tell him to be quiet though, just stares with surprised, wide eyes.

"Yeah," he finally says, slowly. "I heard that's the rough part. Iwaizumi's aunt or something tried to sever a bond, I heard it was – rough."

Kageyama doesn't say anything, glaring down at his fists on the bed. 

" _But_ ," Oikawa says, voice upbeat and happy again. "We can't look up, right? Only forward!"

"What?"

"We don't have a choice," Oikawa laughs a little, and it sounds – terrifying. Kageyama risks a glance up and sees Oikawa's smile is a little manic, too. "I mean, when you left the room I felt like someone was gutting me or something. We have to finish the bond, or - "

"What about Iwaizumi-san?" Kageyama asks as it occurs to him, then immediately regrets it. He breath catches at a sudden, sharp jab of deep, profound pain in his chest. 

He just – he just _felt_ Oikawa's pain. Because they're _bonded_ , or well on the way.

"We'll just have to see what happens, I suppose," Oikawa hums easily, and there's no hint at all of the pain Kageyama felt in Oikawa's voice or face. 

"Sorry," he mutters, because the sting from asking about Iwaizumi is still so sharp it makes Kageyama want to rub at an invisible wound on his chest. 

Oikawa dismisses it, waving his hand. "As I was saying. If we don't sort this out, we're going to be stuck 5 feet from each other for the rest of our lives. I don't know about _you_ , but."

He doesn't bother to finish, both hands back in his hair.

Kageyama stares, opens his mouth, then looks around the room. 

It's small. Two beds, but they're sharing one. It's cold. It's painted pale blue. There are two imposing medical devices Kageyama doesn't recognize pushed into a corner. There's a privacy curtain that could be pulled shut. There's overhead lights but they're off, the room is lit by a small lamp on a bedside table. It's still dark out, Kageyama can see city lights in the far distance through the window, impossibly out of reach.

"How?" he finally asks. In movies and shows, bonding is always shown as a dramatic and instant thing, linked closely to _love_. That's how Kageyama's mother spoke about her own bond, too. How could any of that ever happen with _Oikawa_?

Oikawa is puffing out his cheeks like he's wondering the same. "Not sure, frankly. I've been trying to remember - to think about - how it started." He stops, lips pressed together, suddenly uncomfortable, but whatever he's feeling isn't going through the bond, so Kageyama can only guess.

"We started to bond because we were attacked," Kageyama says.

"Yeah."

He remembers a beer bottle, broken, the sharp, dripping edge pushed closer and closer to his eye, the fist yanking at his hair, keeping him trapped in place. He bites his lip, and feels a crushing inescapable sadness and exhaustion. It wants to escape him as tears, but he just feels too tired.

Oikawa closes his eyes, sighing heavily. 

Kageyama felt Oikawa's pain about Iwaizumi, so he wonders if Oikawa felt any of that – felt any of Kageyama's pain since he woke up? He thinks the answer is probably yes when Oikawa grabs his sleeve, tugging him closer again. Laying down next to Oikawa helps of course, helps a lot. They shift a little to find a more comfortable position, easier than it was in the shower. The unhurt side of Kageayama's face pressed against Oikawa's chest again, and after some silence to calm down, he can hear Oikawa's heart beat.

 _A bond_. With _Oikawa._. For a year, at least.

He wonders how tall he'll be in a year. If he'll still have to lay down next to Oikawa like this, if they'll still fit comfortably. 

After junior high he stopped drinking strawberry milk, because it always reminded him of Oikawa, and that would make the rest of his day complicated. But he really does like how Oikawa smells. Instead of trying to ignore it like usual, he focuses in on it. 

At least Oikawa is actually trying – or is trying to try. He actually feels a rush of gratitude for it, though from a realistic standpoint it wasn't as though Oikawa had any other option. Being unpleasant would've sabotaged himself.

His phone chimes a notification he's not familiar with – he's already learned to tune out the one for Hinata – and he lifts his head, grabbing for his phone blindly. 

**Iwaizumi:**  
You awake?

Kageyama stares, stunned.

 **Me** :  
Yes

 **Iwaizumi** :  
How are you?

 **Me:**  
tired

Kageyama sniffs, wipes at his face, wincing as he rubs against tender flesh.

 **Me:**  
sore

Iwaizumi is typing a long time before a short message finally appears.

 **Iwaizumi** :  
It shouldn't have happened.

 **Me:**  
yeah

 **Iwaizumi** :  
I'm sorry.

Kageyama swallows, feeling oddly soothed by the conversation, settling nerves he hadn't fully be aware of. Without them rattling around, he's suddenly aware of how tired he actually is, and he drops his head back onto Oikawa's shoulder, eyes heavy.

 **Me:**  
Yeah  
im going to sleep

 **Iwaizumi** :  
can I talk to Oikawa?

"Iwaizumi-san," Kageyama says, dropping his phone on Oikawa's neck.

"What?" Oikawa sputters, then takes the phone. After a beat, "You're really trusting me with your phone, Tobio-chan?"

Kageayama shrugs, his thoughts already fuzzing out as he starts to doze. He knows other people have secrets on their phones, but Kageyama just uses it to talk to his family and teammates, and wake up on time for school and practice. 

"There's only like, seventy pictures on here." Oikawa sounds disappointed.

"How many do you have?" Kageyama asks, without opening his eyes.

"Like – five thousand?"

Kageyama stares up in shock. 

Oikawa is frowning, flicking his forefinger across the screen of Kageyama's phone. "Mm, I guess I'm doomed to attract phone Luddites." 

Whatever that means. Kageyama relaxes again has almost managed to fall asleep when the door opens.

"Tooru...?" a woman asks, softly. "How are you?"

"Never better," Oikawa says, and hands Kageyama his phone again. "Where's dad?"

"Still in the lobby. They're only letting one beta in to visit until you finish your bond – ah, hello. Kageayama Tobio?"

"Hello," Kageyama says.

"I'm Tooru's mother," she says, gently. Her hair is pulled up into a sloppy ponytail, and she looks incredibly stressed, though she tries to smile. "I'm so sorry about what happened to both of you."

Kageyama nods, and feels rude for not getting up, but it's not going to happen, and Oikawa's mother doesn't seem to expect it to.

"They're afraid anyone with especially strong pheromones could disrupt the bonding process," she says, looking back to to her son. "So our visits will have to be short. Did they tell you the good news?"

"What," Oikawa's voice actually shakes with his laughter. "On earth could _possibly_ be good news right now?"

His mother presses her lips together in regret. "Well," she says, "It doesn't sound like you two will be stuck together! All you'll have to do is wait a year, and then you can sever the bond."

Kageyama doesn't realize his plummeting mood until Oikawa's hand rests on the back of his neck. Maybe it's supposed to be a warning, but Oikawa doesn't have to worry, the last thing Kageyama wants to do is get in a fight with his mother. He just closes his eyes, and stops listening.

~

"Tobio," his sister, Atsuko, is shaking him. "Wake up."

"Why? It's early," Tobio says, rolling out of her reach, closer to the wall.

"Because," she says, rolling him back again. "Dad's in the hospital."

Tobio sits up.

"Mom's already there," Atsuko says, going to Tobio's dresser, grabbing a pair of pants and tossing it at him. 

"Did he do it again?" Tobio asks.

Atusko pauses for a moment, then nods, grabbing a t-shirt and throwing that at Tobio, too. 

"Hurry up," she says, and leaves the room so Tobio can get dressed.

As long as Tobio remembers, his mother and father have been divorced, and their bond severed. He lives with his mother, even though she's an alpha, because severing bonds is very hard on omegas. Even though it's been six years, his father is still _unstable_ , and not a fit parent, and sometimes goes to the hospital because he hurt himself very badly. 

"Bonds are so fucking stupid," Atsuko says, darkly, as she drives to the hospital. "Mom and Dad were stupid for doing it."

Tobio doesn't say anything. He knows his parents were very young when they bonded, still in high school, and he knows everyone says it was a mistake, but he likes both of his parents, and his sister, and himself, too much to understand how he's supposed to hate that like everyone else does. 

"I'm _never_ bonding, especially not with an omega," Atsuko says.

"But then we wouldn't have been born," Tobio says.

"You can mate without bonding. You can get _married_ without bonding," she says. She gets really upset when their father hurts himself. When she was Tobio's age, everything was still happy and their mother says Atsuko takes it _personally_. "The only people who bond have something to prove. It's so – _tacky_."

Tobio's father has hurt himself five times. Each time they've gone to the hospital and get to spend the whole day with him, even if it's a school day, and they get to eat out for lunch _and_ dinner. Tobio knows it's sad, but his father is always really happy to see Tobio, and he likes to spend time with him, so Tobio is impatient when they get out of the car. He hops up and down a little on his feet while his sister grabs her school bag and books from the back.

"Come on!" he says, hurrying to the doors, then scowling when Astuko grabs his hand to slow him down.

"Don't _run_ through a parking lot, idiot," she mutters. 

Atsuko sounds kind of bored and angry when she gives the front desk her name and asks about her father. He's annoyed when the nurse tells them to go to the waiting room instead of giving them a room number, though, and when they get there, a doctor waiting for them, and their mother's eyes are red. 

"There's some bad news," his mother says, holding out a hand for Tobio, and he takes it, confused, and his mother lifts him up onto her lap.

His sister is not confused. She takes a step back.

"He's dead," Atsuko says, voice shaking. She's looking at their mother instead of the doctor. "Isn't he?"

The doctor presses their lips together. "This attempt wasn't any more severe than the ones in the past, but the accumulative damage on his heart – "

" _Fuck_ ," Atsuko drops her books and her bag, and slams the door when she leaves the room.

Tobio looks between the doctor and his mother. "Did he really die?" he asks.

His mother nods, and holds him very tight. He feels confused, mostly, because all the people he knows who are dead are very old, and he also just saw his father very recently, so it thinks there might be a mistake, but his mother has put her head against his hair and started crying, so instead he just hugs her back and sits quietly.

~

It wasn't his father, it was the bond. It's the mantra Kageyama grew up with. Talking about bonds was an awkward thing for his sister, and outright taboo for Kageyama himself. He never really bothered to learn about them, because he figured it would never apply, because he couldn't see any possible future that would involve them.

"You drooled."

Kageyama lifts his head, blinking heavily, too out of it to even be embarrassed, wiping at his face.

"Get up, I want to take this off," Oikawa says, yanking the portion of his shirt with the visible wet mark away from his chest. Kageyama wants to snicker at his annoyance, shifting up onto his hands and knees, until he hears another person's weight shift, and remembers Oikawa's _mother_ is in the room, sitting on the bed across from them.

Now it is a little embarrassing. 

Oikawa lays back down, and tugs Kageyama back into his previous position. 

"Your friends showed up. Wanna talk to them?" Oikawa says, handing the phone to Kageyama, but he pushes it back. 

"… You sure?"

Kageyama nods. 

"Chibi-chan's been texting like. A lot."

"He always does."

"Alright," Oikawa says, disbelieving. 

"I'm sure they're just worried," Oikawa's mother says. 

"Yes," Kageyama mutters, it's the only respectful response he can think to say. 

If he could, Kageyama would be alone right now. He feels uncomfortable with his body in a way that makes him want to go for a jog, to run as fast and as hard as possible, to sweat and push everything awful outside of it, until his muscles ache from it, burned clean. 

The last thing he wants to do is talk, especially not to his friends, who will ask lots of questions, and will not stop. 

He's starting to feel anger, now, resenting them, and Oikawa's mother, and Oikawa, and the drool on Oikawa's shirt. He grips the sheets beneath him, the frustration of wanting to be _alone_ and being _stuck_ hitting him hard. 

"So, Tobio," Oikawa's mother says, pleasantly. "Tooru says you play volleyball, too?"

"Ah, mother," Oikawa says a little weakly, putting his hand on the back of Kageyama's head, maybe as just a barrier between the two of them. He must feel it, Kageyama's anger, and lack of patience, and his want to yell at just about anyone. He still can't imagine yelling at someone's mother, though. "I think Tobio-chan is still sleepy."

"Mm," she says. "How about you, Tooru? Have you slept at all?"

He makes a vague noise. "Here and there."

They continue to talk, and Kageyama frowns as a thought occurs to him. Outside of that single stab of pain when he mentioned Iwaizumi, he hasn't felt anything from Oikawa at all, but Oikawa is apparently feeling most of what Kageyama is feeling. 

From what he understands about bonds – the traditional bond between an alpha and omega – an omega feels most of what an alpha is feeling, but an alpha only gets vague impressions. Alphas are rarely bothered by severed bonds, because they don't really change much to start with. Omegas are the ones that get most of the benefit and pain, though – he's never really heard of any benefits. So just pain, then. 

Is a bond between omegas... different? Or is it because the bond isn't complete? Is it because Kageyama's feelings are _stronger_ than Oikawa's? But he barely wonders that before dismissing it completely; he's seen it firsthand, several times, the sudden and overwhelming depth of Oikawa's anger. 

He's not sure how he feels about it being because of the partial bond, and the promise of being able to see into Oikawa's head, all the time, in the future. 

He doesn't need to sleep, and lays there in a bored sort of trance as Oikawa and his mother continue to talk, until she shifts around like she's about to stand.

"Well it's about time I gave Tobio's friend a chance to visit, I think," she says, picking up her purse.

Kageyama lifts his head, blinking in surprise.

"A young man named Sugawara Koshi," she says, digging through her purse. "I thought I mentioned that when I came back from visiting the nurse?"

"You did," Oikawa says, and almost sounds fond about it as he taps against Kageyama's head, but he's too shaken to care. "Tobio-chan is a bit of an airhead."

"Tooru," she tsks lightly. "Anyway, I'm sure he's eager to see his friend – "

Kageyama drops his head back to the bed. "That's okay."

"Eh?" 

Sugawara – is the absolute last person Kageyama wants to see. He'd rather Kindaichi, he'd rather _Satori Tendo_. He doesn't want to talk to Sugawara for the same reasons he wanted to before the tournament. 

Sugawara _knows._

He'll – he'll just know. It won't matter what Kageyama says, Sugawara will see through it, to things Kageyama doesn't even want to think about yet. 

Neither Oikawa or his mother seem to have taken Kageyama seriously though, as she's heading for the door.

"See if you can get me my phone," Oikawa says, quickly, obviously reminding her.

"I know, and decent conditioner, and shampoo," she says. "Let me know if Tobio needs anything, it won't be a problem."

Kageyama nods goodbye, and there's a strained beat where whatever farewell they usually give one another is apparently felt to be too private in front of Kageyama. Eventually she just nods. 

"Get some rest, alright?"

"You, too. Say hi to dad – and Hana! And Ya-chan! And don't forget – "

"Conditioner, I _know_ ," she says, and is rolling her eyes and she leaves. "Goodness."

The door closes and there's a quiet moment where he feels like Oikawa's sizing him up for some reason, waiting for him to say something.

"Your mother's nice," Kageyama guesses.

"She is," Oikawa agrees. 

The door is at the foot of the bed they're sharing, and they are both tall – it's not exactly hard for Kageyama to reach out and block the door with his foot, knocking it shut again after Sugawara starts to open it.

There's a confused beat, and then a knock at the door.

"Uh," Oikawa says, staring in confusion. "You… gonna get that?"

Kageyama shakes his head sharply. "No," he says. 

"What is your problem?" Oikawa asks, but it sounds like a genuine question, rubbing at his chest as though wounded, like Kageyama had when he mentioned Iwaizumi. "He's that setter right? You got along with him."

Sugawara knocks again, and Oikawa gets up to answer the door, so Kageyama shuffles down the bed to block it more properly with his whole leg –

"I said I don't want to talk to – " Kageyama says, but Oikawa has the balance to grab him by the leg and simply tip him out of the way. " _Hey!_ " 

Kageyama falls to the floor, jumping to his feet as the door opens, anger going right to panic when he sees Oikawa's hand on the knob. " _Stop!_ "

Still looking more confused than anything else, Oikawa doesn't listen, and opens the door. 

~

"I mean, no, it's not her fault, of course not," whispered in another room. "It's just – you know. Omegas after _that_. They're just ruined, aren't they?"

"What's sad is she thinks we can't tell."

"Well, she's trying."

"She should've tried harder _then_ , and it wouldn't be an issue, would it?"

~

Kageyama is reaching out to stop it, feeling suddenly _terrified_ , until his eyes land on Sugawara on the other side. 

He doesn't know what he expected. 

It felt like something bad, but – it's just Sugawara. He looks worried as he peers into the room, then relieved when he catches sight of Kageyama. Not – angry or disgusted, he doesn't look like he _knows_ the bad things that happened to him, he just looks like – normal, like he does every day. He doesn't know why Sugawara's eyes suddenly go wide with concern at first, then he feels his chest shake with tears – he didn't think he had any left.

"Tobio," he says, and they've never – hugged or anything. Sugawara is very physical with his teammates, Kageyama watched him punch and kick all of them one after another when entering a game, and he was constantly touching Asahi and Sawamura, but he's always kept a respectful distance from Kageyama. 

He's surprised at how easy it is when Sugawara steps close, both arms wrapping around him tightly, no hesitation, one hand at the back of Kageyama's neck, encouraging his head down to Sugawara's shoulder. 

"Yeah," Oikawa says, still sounding confused, letting the door shut. "That's what I thought."


	6. Chapter Six

"Hinata said he did really well during the tournament." 

Kageyama scoffs. 

"No?" Sugawara laughs.

"His digs don't suck as much as they did last year," Kageyama admits, reluctantly. "He still can't hit a decent straight."

"Oh? Did he try?"

"Against Tokonami," he says. "It was out." 

Kageyama's head is in Sugawara's lap. He hasn't laid like this since he was a small child, not with anyone, not even his mother. The questions keep coming, and Kageyama knows his answers are awkward and lacking, but Sugawara still asks, about each game, each set, each point, each play. Easy, undemanding, and his fingers light and gentle as they slowly comb through Kageyama's hair.

He is relaxed, but across from them, in the other bed, Oikawa is not.

Oikawa is having a bad dream, and Kageyama knows it, because he can feel it. Oikawa is asleep, curled just a little on his side, and the steady pulse of muddled, half-formed emotions remind Kageyama of his own unfocused thoughts just after waking up. It's odd to feel them from Oikawa – mostly confusion, frustration, stress, and occasional sharp peaks of anger, before fading to long stretches of quiet. 

Kageyama watches Oikawa sigh softly, then roll onto his back, a knot of unpleasant confusion softening to nothing.

"When's your next game?" Kageyama asks.

"Next month. But I won't be playing," Sugawara says. "I probably won't stay on the team after this season, if I'm being honest."

"But – why?!"

"Mm," Sugawara says. "I like watching volleyball, but Karasuno is the only team that I'm willing to sit on the bench for."

Kageyama is upset about this, but he doesn't know what to say. He knows, really, that Sugawara's skills are quickly outmatched in games. He scores points because he's smart, and he can spot mistakes, but once the other team closes those gaps, they start to outpace him, and he has to got back to the bench, until he can spot more mistakes. But Sugawara's guidance kept the team glued together, made Karasuno strong in a way no one else could've done, not even Sawamura or Ukai. It was as important to the team as any of it. 

"You should be a coach."

"Maybe," Sugawara laughs lightly. " _So_." 

His suddenly heavy tone has Kageyama looking over at Oikawa, double-checking he's still asleep – and he is, mouth slack.

"How are you doing?" Sugawara asks.

Kageyama grunts.

"You gave us a pretty good scare," he says. 

Kageyama frowns at that, remembering the ignored texts from Hinata. Getting lost in the first place. Not listening to Oikawa when he said not to fight, and then not fighting hard enough, not being strong enough to stop any of it, and something gross and dark and sticky behind all of it that he doesn't fully understand. 

"Sorry."

"No! No, don't – let me rephrase," Sugawara says. "I'm glad we found out where you were. This must have been..." Sugawara looks so sad when he softly touches the hot flesh of the injury on Kageyama's cheek, lips pinched together. "Really awful."

Kageyama flinches, more from Sugawara's words than his touch. "Yeah."

"To be honest, it's... ah. It scares me, seeing how much they hurt you," Sugawara says. "It makes me worry that you might be hurting more, in ways I can't see."

Kageyama huffs, closing his eyes tight, wanting to run, wanting to _escape_. "It shouldn't have happened," he finally says, repeating Iwaizumi's words, because he liked them. They sound strong, like a warning to the universe to back off. 

Sugawara nods sadly, combing his fingers through Kageyama's hair again. 

_Nice, happy, good_ – Kageyama blinks at the sudden, distracting whisper. Oikawa just pushes deeper into the pillow in his sleep, doesn't really smile or anything, but Kageyama feels it: Oikawa is having a very happy dream. 

Kageyama watches, wondering if he's dreaming of Iwaizumi.

"Are you going to bond with Sawamura-san?"

" _Wha_ – " Sugawara sputters at the sudden question, and Kageyama glances up, surprised to see his cheeks turning a bright shade of pink. He's never acted shy about Sawamura before. "That – " he clears his throat. "You – you're worried about – bonding with Oikawa?"

Kageyama nods shortly. 

"Well," Sugawara says. "Have you ever been interested in omegas before?"

Kageyama shrugs.

"Interested in…" Sugawara's voice is very careful. " _Anyone_ before?" 

Kageyama shrugs.

~

"We don't need that, right?? We're not studying English!"

"It's not for studying," Yachi says, and Hinata grabs the gigantic English dictionary from Yachi's shaking arms before she drops it. She points to her bedroom doorway, and Hinata sets it down, where, to Kageyama's relief, it's used as a doorstop. "But we have to keep the door open!"

"Right. Cause I'm an alpha?" Hinata asks, and looks proud about it, puffing up his chest, hands on his hips.

"Yes! I mean.. sort of," Yachi says, and fiddles with her fingers like she always does before saying something uncomfortable. "My mother thinks you two are – uhm. You know."

Kageyama thinks she's about to say something like, _goons_ or _bad influences_ , maybe, but he doesn't see how anyone could see Hinata as anything but a goofy, loud dork. He's about to say so, when she finally finishes.

" _Together_."

" _What?!_ "

"It's not that weird!!" she says, all worried and frazzled. "You're both volleyball crazed – and – and Shouyou's an alpha! And Tobio-kun is an omega!! It's not _bad!!!_ "

She drops down into an apologizing fit, and Hinata laughs a little, comforting her. Kageyama stands back, like he usually does during these episodes, until it all settles again. He watches Hinata's hand on her back, the way he encourages her up to her feet again.

Hinata _is_ an alpha. 

_And_ Kageyama can easily boss him around, and Kageyama's never bored when he's with Hinata, either, and he smells good – _very_ good, like sheets hung out to dry in the sun – and his mother always says that's one of the most important things. 

He narrows his eyes at Hinata, considering, but looks quickly away when Hinata glances up, still smiling from his words to Yachi.

He's kind, too. He's very kind. 

They don't say anything more about it, not during the rest of the studying session or even during the long walk to the train station. 

But a year later they're at camp, and Kageyama has woken up before anyone else. 

He gets dressed in quiet, pulls on his sneakers and sits on the deck outside, stretching, looking up at the stars, waiting for them to dim. It's still too dark to see, and he's not familiar enough with these roads to jog down them blind, not wanting to risk an ankle injury by stepping into a hole or tripping. 

Hinata comes up to join him, and sits down with an exaggerated, goofy sort of sigh. They sit in the comfortable silence, until Hinata sighs again, and he looks up and sees Hinata watching him with an uncharacteristic frown.

"You're not like. The _ugliest_ omega."

Kageyama stares back blandly, both hands wrapped around his left foot, slowly switching to the right. He doesn't respond, because it's still early enough that his thoughts haven't quite woken up yet, and he can tell what Hinata was _actually_ saying, but – honestly it's hard to pick a trait that Hinata isn't the absolute lowest category that an alpha should be: he _is_ the shortest, weakest, dumbest alpha Kageyama knows. 

When he finishes stretching, leaning back, Hinata shifts forward, kneeling in the space left between his legs. He leans in for a kiss and Kageyama allows it. He's expecting a chaste thing, something on the cheek, but Hinata has never been a coward. 

Kageyama licks his lips when they're done, and they stare at one another with a careful, considering look.

 _Maybe_ , Kageyama decides. But the sun has started to rise, at least enough for a jog down unfamiliar streets. 

He stands, and feels Hinata watching as he jogs around the corner.

~

But maybe not. It was never something that occupied either of their minds seriously. 

Sugawara sighs, heavily. "Have you ever heard of a Rorschach test?"

"No."

"It's pictures, ink blots. A doctor shows them to a patient, and the patient tries to find a picture in the image," Sugawara says. "The patient sees what they want to see, and it helps the doctor understand what they're thinking about."

"Oh," Kageyama says, confused about why this is being said to him.

"Sometimes – because you're so quiet, you're remind me of a Rorschach test," he says. "People see what they want to see – if they want to fight you, then they think your expression is mean. If they want to talk to you, then they see you as shy."

Kageyama waits for him to finish, still confused, frowning harder. 

"Right now, I'm nervous," Sugawara says. "So I'm worried that I'm starting to see things that aren't there, too. It would be helpful if you shared more of what you're feeling – I don't always know what you mean when you're quiet."

Kageyama grimaces hard, trying to come up with words. "I don't want to have a bond," he says, miserably.

"With Oikawa?"

Kageyama struggles to organize his thoughts toward Oikawa at the moment. Fears he might have had in the past haven't happened. Oikawa can be very mean, but so far he's just been – pushy and curt. But he guesses that makes sense. They're on the same team now. And that is what he feels: Oikawa, reluctant or not, has allowed him onto his team, sincerely. 

"Oikawa-san helped. He's still helping."

"That's good!" Sugawara says, eyebrows flying up in surprise. "Things have been okay between you two, then? I was – worried about that, too." 

Kageyama shrugs. When he scowls again because he can't think of a way to elaborate, Sugawara laughs, and puts a hand on his shoulder. 

"Sometimes a shrug says enough," Sugawara says, then glances back up to Oikawa and nods to himself. "A bond is a scary thing, and this is a bad situation, but you're strong enough to get through it."

A bond _is_ a scary thing, and Kageyama latches onto that – everyone talks about it like they're good, and he wonders if that's why Sugawara acted so oddly before. 

"You don't want to bond, either?" he asks, remembering Sugawara's blush.

"Well – " Sugawara says, getting flustered again. "That's – it's a little – different – "

"Beta bonds are _physical_."

They both look to the other bed, where Oikawa is awake, but barely. His face is soft with sleep, and he's slowly sitting upright. 

"Ah," Sugawara says. "Yeah. They're very different from alpha and omega bonds. They're very – private."

Kageyama looks between the two of them, confused.

"Alphas and omegas are already wired to fuck each other," Oikawa says, yawning, reaching up high and bending his back as he stretches. "'N a bond between those dynamics compensates for the emotional connection. A _beta_ bond gets them horny enough to meet their partner's needs."

" _Oikawa_ ," Sugawara says, tense. 

"I have two beta sisters," Oikawa says, like that explains anything, waving his hand dismissively. "There's some sexual stuff in an alpha and omega bond, but it's mostly mental, which is a good thing, considering – " he stops, and looks at Kageyama. An awful prickling kind of emotion hitting in Kagemya's gut. "Considering."

_Guilt._

Kageyama is trying to make sense of that when Oikawa stretches again, hard, popping his back, and the feeling vanishes like a light-switch flicking off, like it was never there at all.

"Alright," Sugawara is saying, shifting his weight, and Kageyama sits up so Sugawara can climb off the bed. "They said we should keep these visits as short as possible. Any messages for Hinata? Tanaka?"

Kageyama shakes his head. He'll answer some of Hinata's texts, and he can't think of anything to say to Tanaka either way. 

"Your mother?"

Kageyama pauses, then shakes his head no again. He can message her himself, too.

Sugawara closes his eyes, exhaling in relief. "Okay. I have classes tomorrow, but I'll visit the day after that. Want me to bring anything?"

"A volleyball?"

"Oh my god," Oikawa says under his breath, rolling toward the wall while Sugawara laughs again. 

"Sure." 

Oikawa seems to have woken up in the same rotten mood Kageyama had earlier, Kageyama can feel it, licking along the edge of his mind. 

He doesn't want to be alone with Oikawa. 

It happens, though, Sugawara slips his shoes back on, pulls on his jacket, waves goodbye and closes the door when he leaves.

In the quiet, Kageyama is nervous to even look toward Oikawa, afraid making eye contact will make the irritation he feels at bay even worse.

"Get over here," Oikawa just mutters, without sitting up, and without looking at Kageyama, and sounding kind of bored about it. "I didn't leave you alone when _my_ guest showed up."

Kageyama climbs off the spare bed, back onto theirs, against Oikawa's side. Again, he's surprised at how immediately soothing the closeness is. He hadn't even been aware of the steady stress against his mind – and they were only a bed apart – but he presses his cheek against Oikawa's back, feeling him breathe in and out, and the tension melts slowly away.

"Were you dreaming about Iwaizumi-san?"

Oikawa stiffens, then shifts, rolling to face Kageyama, no longer sleepy. 

"What's this preoccupation with Iwa-chan?"

"What?"

"That's the third time you've asked about him," Oikawa says, smiling a mean smile. "You know Iwa-chan isn't as stupid as Kindaichi, right?"

" _What?_ "

Oikawa's mean expression flattens and he looks away, unimpressed. "Never mind," Oikawa says. "Yes, I had a dream about Iwa-chan. Why?"

"I felt it," Kageyama says, feeling stupid for bringing it up, now. "It felt nice."

Oikawa looks stunned, then laughs shortly. "Mr. Refreshing is right. You make a really good Rubin vase, Tobio-chan."

"What does that mean?" he asks. It's not usual for him to be confused by what Oikawa is saying, but he's truly, completely lost. 

"It's just easy to forget that you don't care about alphas," Oikawa says, flicking at Kageyama's bangs. "Do you?"

Kageyama's had enough of talking, now. 

He just shrugs.

~

Tobio doesn't have a nap buddy in preschool, and he likes to finish his lunch quietly, without talking to his neighbors. 

At recess, he likes to swing, but because those are usually crowded, he walks across the empty soccer field. He likes to walk along the big square line on the outside of it, looking down his feet, watching the white powder puff up onto his shoes. 

Sometimes, the teachers ask if he wants to play games with the other children instead, so he he does, but he likes the soccer field better.

The other children leave him alone, except one day, Reiji, an alpha with lots of freckles, runs across the field toward him.

"Hi," Reiji says. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Uh," Tobio says, but Reiji has already taken it, and smiles really big. Reiji walks back toward the playground, still holding on, so that's where Tobio goes, too. 

Reiji holds Tobio's hand when it's lunch time, and after lunch, he takes Tobio to the slide, even though there are swings open. Tobio's teacher is very happy when she sees Reiji taking the spot beside Tobio during their nap.

"You've got your own a nap buddy, Tobio-chan!" she says, smiling. 

Tobio tries to walk on the lines of the soccer field the next morning, but Reiji finds him again, and holds his hand again. 

This happens so many days in a row that the teachers make jokes about them being naughty and kissing if they're left alone, but they don't do that. Reiji just kisses his cheek, which isn't naughty, and he does it in class or on the playground or during lunch, or anywhere he wants, no matter who's there.

Even his mom knows about Reiji, because the teachers tell her when she comes to pick him up. "It looks like Tobio-chan just needed someone to get him out of his shell," she says, happily. "He follows his little boyfriend everywhere, they're inseparable. It's adorable." 

"Well," his mother says, stiffly. "I'm glad he's making friends."

Tobio spends every day with Reiji until winter, when Reiji's father moves to another city, so Reiji has to start going to another preschool. He gives Tobio another kiss on the cheek before he goes, and says that they're married now.

"Okay," Tobio says.

The next day, Reiji is gone, so Tobio gets to walk along the soccer field again during recess. It's quiet, and he's happy.

"I bet preschool is a little lonely without Reiji," his mother says kindly, on the drive home.

Tobio shrugs. 

"It's alright if you're sad," his mother says.

"I'm not sad."

"Really?"

"I like it better when I'm playing just by myself."

"Well. Why did you play with Reiji so often?"

Tobio shrugs. 

"No reason?"

"There wasn't anything better to do."

His mother is quiet, then laughs, hard, leaning back to ruffle his hair. "Yes, yes, exactly," she says. "That's _exactly_ right. Alphas are only good when you don't have anything better to do."

Tobio smiles back, though he's not sure what exactly made her so happy.

This is Tobio's understanding of romance with alphas. It's not something he's curious about, because he already knows it's boring. He knows holding hands is boring, he knows kisses are boring, he knows attention and words from alphas are boring, and by the time he gets to junior high he's found volleyball, which is _way_ better than any of that.

In junjior high, volleyball isn't just gym class anymore, it's a club, a real team, and his captain, Oikawa-san, reminds Tobio of some of the dolls his aunt likes to buy him for his birthday, or the heroes in animes for young children. He's tall, and his smile is very nice, and he's good at volleyball, at _everything_ , and he's omega, like Tobio.

" _Miss!!!_ "

The volleyball, which Oikawa had been aiming toward the trashcan on the opposite side of the gym, hits the wall and bounces away.

"One more, Tooru-kun," says the alpha who bet Oikawa couldn't serve a ball into the trashcan. Oikawa has three chances to make it, and that was his second.

Oikawa doesn't seem nervous though, bouncing the ball calmly, then – Tobio holds a volleyball tight against his chest, toes curling in his shoes – the toss, the run – _slam_ – 

The ball lands so cleanly in the trashcan that it actually bounces out again smoothly, and the whole gym claps for their captain, _almost_ louder than his gloating.

" _Ha!_ " Oikawa shouts, spinning around to grin at the alpha. 

He gloats for a long time, his smile is very happy. Tobio watches from the benches, impressed. He'd like to be a part of the scene, somehow, but by now knows it's safer to just watch. 

"Annoying, isn't he?" 

Tobio looks up in surprise and sees Iwaizumi sitting down on the riser in front of him, tying his shoe.

"I think he's amazing," Tobio says, resting his chin on the ball. 

Iwaizumi stiffens, and when he looks over his shoulder, there's a small smile on his face. He ruffles Tobio's hair. "Guess that's what I meant."

Tobio stares.

When Iwaizumi runs out to the court to play, he throws a volleyball at Oikawa's head, and tells him to stop showboating, because it's pissing him off, and he has to learn to be a graceful winner. Tobio watches, a rush of strange excitement in his stomach – Iwaizumi likes Oikawa. 

_Likes_ Oikawa, _romance_ likes Oikawa – but it's not boring. It's like they're _friends_. 

Oikawa whines, rubbing at the back of his head like he's really hurt and upset about, but he's not actually hurt, and he's not actually upset. They're both happy, and they play together, and Tobio watches.

~

"Get up," Oikawa says, pushing Kageyama a little roughly. "I want to brush my teeth." 

They walk to the bathroom and Kageyama stands beside Oikawa at the sink, watching him brush his teeth, and then wash his face. Oikawa gives himself a long, long look in the mirror when he's done, takes a deep breath, then turns to Kageyama with a smile.

"So," he says. "What have you been up to?"

Kageyama opens his mouth.

" _Not_ volleyball," he says.

Kageyama's mouth snaps shut. 

"There has to be other things you're interested in," he says. "Movies? You like manga, right?"

"I like Dokaben."

Oikawa closes his eyes. "That's for grade school kids."

Kageyama doesn't respond – he _did_ start reading it in grade school, but he still likes the characters and likes reading about them.

"Iwaizumi still reads that stuff, too, I guess," Oikawa says, as though reminding himself to be patient. "What are your favorite classes?"

"Math," Kageyama says. 

Oikawa perks at that, seeming surprised. "Really?"

Kageyama nods. "Once I almost got put in a 4 class, but – " he almost stops, sensing that Oikawa isn't going to appreciate the end of the sentence. "I stayed in regular because I wanted more time for volleyba – "

Oikawa covers his mouth.

"If we're going to finish this bond," he says. "We're going to have to have some pleasant conversations."

Kageyama nods.

"Do you think we can do that if we're talking about volleyball?"

Kageyama thinks _yes_ – 

"The answer is _no_ , Tobio-cha – " he says. "Tobio. So, we have Dokaben and math. I don't know anything about Dokaben and I'm good at math but not enough to _bond_ because you almost, once, were above mediocre at something outside of volleyball. Anything else?"

It's like Kageyama's mind is working against him, now that Oikawa's said _not_ volleyball, it's all he can think about, even more than usual. He likes – parks with open courts, he likes early morning jogs, the last time he went to the mall was for a new pair of sneakers, and he knows a lot about sneakers, but there's no way he's saying any of that because they're all actually about volleyball and Oikawa will know that.

"What do _you_ like?" he asks, instead.

"The beach," Oikawa says, easily. "Astronomy, dogs, museums, comedies, historical fiction, Shibuya-kei, psychology, swimming – "

"You already said the beach!" Kageyama says, feeling more inadequate with each thing Oikawa lists off. 

"I don't go to the beach to swim," Oikawa says, as though Kageyama is incredibly stupid. "I swim in a _pool_."

"What else – "

"What else do you do at a beach?" Oikawa asks, unimpressed. "Barbecues, beach volleyball, Frisbee, drinking – "

He stops himself, looking at Kageyama's pinched up face.

"So you, what? You just – stay at home?" Oikawa asks. "Sitting in your room, just looking at a volleyball?"

" _No!_ "

" _So?_ "

"So – I – like games," he says. 

"Games? Video games?"

Kageyama nods. "Mostly – "

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, not _encouraging_ as much as _demanding_ Kageyama finish that.

"Hinata plays them. Fighting games. I don't – play them alone but," he shrugs. "I really like to beat him."

Kageyama thinks this is going to be unimpressive, again, but it actually makes Oikawa pause, tilting his head to the side. 

"You're competitive," he says, thoughtfully.

Kageyama is. 

It's something omegas aren't supposed to be, but his mother had encouraged it, and when he's competing with someone he feels everything inside him flare up, excited and hot. He thinks if he didn't have that, he might be exactly what Oikawa described: a boy that just sits in a room doing nothing. Remembering what Sugawara says, about not being able to guess what Kageyama is thinking, Kageyama wonders if he should – sort of attempts to think of a way to say all that – but it quickly feels dumb and not worth sharing. 

Maybe Oikawa understands it anyway, though, because he's grinning like he has an idea. 

A nurse comes in about three hours later, and looks over the swelling around Kageyama's eye and says it's healing well. Oikawa asks for some paper and pencils, and when they get it, he starts drawing a series of dots all across it, in neat rows. 

"Here," he says while he does it, handing the second pencil to Kageyama, and his interest is immediately piqued, watching Oikawa work. "This is Dots and Boxes."

"Like tic-tac-toe?"

"Sort of, but," Oikawa says. "No, not at all."

"Oh."

"Connect the dots," he says. "Only one line at a time. The goal is to close as many boxes as you can."

Oikawa goes first, drawing a dark, confident line between two of the dots, then sliding the in front of Kageyama.

Kageyama looks over it a moment, and connects two of the dots at random. Oikawa goes, then it's back and forth, until Kageyama completes a box and writes his initials inside.

"Well done!" Oikawa says, but doesn't take it when Kageyama tries to pass it back. "You get to go again after you complete a box."

Kageyama looks over the remaining dots. Feeling confident, he quickly connects two, and Oikawa happily yanks it back, and quickly starts connecting all of the boxes – 

"Hey!"

"After you connect a box you go again, remember Tobio-chan?" Oikawa says, smiling. Kageyama glares down at the sheet – they'd made so many random lines, all that's left are winning ones, and Oikawa quickly closes all the boxes, one after another, whistling as he goes. "So that's Tobio-chan: one. Oikawa-san: eight. I win. Again?"

Kageyama glares, nodding. He's determined to do better this time, but somehow doesn't manage even _one_ box before Oikawa sweeps the board again. "Zero to nine. Tsk. Maybe this game is too advanced for Tobio-chan?"

Kageyama scowls, yanking the sheet off the pad and setting up the next board.

There's strategy, Kageyama starts to realize after their fourth game. Trying to close all the boxes as quickly as he can seems to only set Oikawa up for easy victory, and he starts hanging back, trying to lure Oikawa into being the one to connect the first winning box.

"The player to make the last move typically wins," Oikawa says, nodding in approval when he notices Kageyama's new strategy. "So you _do_ have something going on up there."

Kageyama isn't even annoyed by the taunt, grinning as he sees his opening, sweeping the board. "Two to seven," Kageyama says, and writes his name across the top, big, proud characters in victory.

Oikawa sneers, yanking the sheet from the pad hard enough to rip it, and starts the next one.

Oikawa is a poor loser, but Kageyama is, too, and when it's just the two of them there's no need to hide it or pretend otherwise. They are quickly furious, and it actually makes the game more fun – they hurry from one board to the next, ripping the sheets off in rages, crumpling losing ones and throwing them across the room. 

"You little _shit_ ," Oikawa laughs in what sounds like delighted fury when Kageyama takes his first game completely, all nine boxes. Kageyama would like to gloat, but it's the last time he wins at all for another four rounds, and then they're out of paper.

"Did you really have to rip this one in half??" Oikawa asks, as they retrieve the crumpled up balls of paper from around the room, smoothing them out as best they can to reuse them on the back. 

This game occupies their attention for hours, only half paying attention to lunch and dinner when it's brought in, and when it's finally time to stop, to go to bed, he feels a pleased, buzzing kind of energy, exhausted but in a very nice sense. It's so like his own that it takes a moment to realize Oikawa's is there with him, too.

~

They haven't bonded when they wake up on the second day.

Kageyama wasn't really expecting to be, but Oikawa is disappointed, and he doesn't want to play Dots and Boxes again.

"Later," Oikawa says, vaguely, when Kageyama asks, staring forward at nothing, like he does when he's thinking very, very hard.

Oikawa was trying to bond, Kageayam realizes. Obviously – _obviously_ he was, Kageyama thinks, he'd basically said as much. But Kageyama had gotten so swept up in the game, he'd forgotten about bonding at all. 

He frowns, and tries to be useful, thinking about ways to bond, too, but he really doesn't know much about it. 

"Don't we need to bite to bond?" Kageyama asks.

Oikawa nods.

"Should we just… "

Oikawa pauses, then lifts his eyebrows, considering. "It couldn't hurt."

Kageyama immediately knows he was wrong, though, as Oikawa scoots closer and Kageyama tilts his head to the side. His sister told him that if he ever bonded that he wouldn't have to think about it, it'd come naturally, and feel very nice, but this feels awkward, and weird. He shivers, almost snickering when he feels Oikawa's lips on his neck, then – 

" _Ow!_ " he yelps, yanking himself back, away from Oikawa.

"Seriously?" Oikawa says, rolling his eyes. "I thought you'd be tougher than that. You wouldn't last a minute with Iwa-chan."

Kageyama glares, rubbing at his neck. Oikawa really went for it. "My turn," he says.

"No – no," Oikawa says, sliding back on the bed, but Kageyama is determined, and follows. "I think we've figured out won't – _fuck!_ Ow! You little – monkey, _let go_."

Oikawa tries to push him off, and Kageyama bites down a little harder, just to prove a point, then releases him. 

They glare at one another, holding their necks.

"So that didn't work," Oikawa says, glancing down at his hand as if to check for blood. "Thanks for your thoroughness, Tobio-chan."

Oikawa gets quiet again after that, distracted as he tries to come up with a solution. After the pain in his neck, Kageyama decides to leave it to him. 

After lunch, Oikawa asks for Kageyama's phone, and after messing around on there for a while, he suddenly asks, "What's your blood type?"

"AB."

"Of course it is," he sighs. "Mine's O."

Kageyama rolls his eyes. _Of course_. 

According to most people, O is the _best_ , blood type. People with O are supposed to be realistic, outgoing and confident and social. The rest of the blood types are known for an even amount of both good and bad traits, except for AB, which is known as the worst, irresponsible and flaky. Kageyama once read an article about scientists trying to test the truth to this superstition, but no one would volunteer to work with the AB group, so the study was canceled. 

"Iwaizumi is B, though... " Oikawa says, to himself. "What's your birthday? Christmas, right?"

"December 22nd."

Oikawa nods, still looking at his phone. Kageyama is surprised that Oikawa remembered at all – he thinks Oikawa's birthday is in summer, but doesn't want to ask now, in case that is very wrong. 

"Bad news," Oikawa says after a while. "It looks like we're doomed either way."

"What?"

"As a lively and flighty Cancer – that's me – you need to be careful with _your omega Sagittarius_ – that's you, Tobio-chan. Your omega Sagittarius is happy, bubbly spirit, sensitive and freely communicative with their needs," Oikawa reads. "There's no such thing as too much for your Sagittarius! The mushier, the better."

Kageyama feels a little like he does in while being forced to study English: confused about what's being said to him, and resentful that it's happening at all. "What is that?"

"Astrology," Oikawa says, still reading. "Does that sound like you?"

" _No_."

Oikawa grunts in vague agreement. "I share a sign with my sister. We're nothing alike." 

"Then why are you looking it up? "

"The illusion of control is soothing," Oikawa says. Then, after a long pause. "Oh, wait. You're a Capricorn."

By the time Oikawa's finished his research, it's late, and Kageyama has several messages from Hinata waiting. He doesn't bother to read them all, just scrolling down the last one.

 **Hinata** :  
i'm sending good vibes your way!!!!!!!!!

 **Me** :  
i don't want good vibes

The last message was from over and hour ago, but Hinata responds quickly. 

**Hinata** :  
(；￣Д￣) 

**Me** :  
i want a spiker that can hit a straight

 **Hinata** :  
AAAAAAAAHHHHHH  
YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
I'LL PRACTICE WHILE UR GONE!!!!!!  
ILL GET AN AWESOME STRAIGHT!!!!!!!!  
BETTER THAN YOURS!!!!!!!  
try not to cry when u see it  
(〜￣▽￣)〜

 **Me** :  
from disappointment

 **Hinata** :  
from  
J E A LO U S Y!!!!!!!!!  
〜(￣▽￣〜)

"Stop," Oikawa says, pull the phone out of his hand before he can reply. 

"What?"

"We need to focus on each other," he says, dropping the phone on the nightstand. 

"You were on it all day!"

"I wasn't _chatting_ with anyone," he says. "That's why we're not supposed to be talking to anyone else in the first place. You can flirt with Chibi-chan all you like once we're bonded."

Kageyama rolls his eyes. 

"Little heartbreaker Tobio-chan," Oikawa says. "You really have no idea, do you?"

He knows Oikawa is saying that Hinata has a crush on him – this has been joked about too many times by other people for it to rustle Kageyama's feathers much.

What has him sitting up straight, looking at Oikawa with apprehensive eyes, is the _tone_. 

It's probably the nicest voice Oikawa's ever used to talk to him, honestly fond. 

Kageyama stares, waiting for the insult.

"You're cute," Oikawa says, and looks Kageyama straight in the face, utterly sincere. "You know?"

Kageyama's chest does something very strange. "Sh-shut up." 

Kageyama craved Oikawa's approval and attention like a literal hunger in junior high, and Oikawa had held it out of reach as much as possible. Kageyama got used to being kept on the outskirts of Oikawa's orbit, the very best he could hope for was to be _tolerated_. It's only a moment, but to have – Oikawa – _Oikawa_ – looking at him like this, with open – _affection_ – his full, undivided attention, even for a moment – 

Oikawa smiles, eyes crinkling with it. It's not mean, at all, it's gentle and relaxed, and when he touches Kageyama's hand, he feels goosebumps crawling up his arm. 

Kageyama tries to speak, probably _shut up_ again, or _stop it_ , or something similar, but all that comes out is a strained miserable little choking noise.

"You look like you're about to overheat," Oikawa laughs, fondly. "You can't seriously tell me no one's tried to hit on you before."

"Not – that – not, " Kageyama chokes out. "Not _you_!"

"What makes it different?" Oikawa asks. "That it's me?"

Oikawa is serious again, still touching his hand, leaning in closer, Kageyama presses against the wall behind him, literally feeling the heat on his own face. 

"You don't like me."

"I like you."

Oikawa says it so fast, and so easily, without any conflict. Kageyama blinks, and the spell is broken. 

"This isn't going to get us to bond," he glares, still feeling the flustered embarrassment and dizzy anticipation.

Oikawa realizes that the gig is up. He grins, and it's the overly cutesy one he gives to Iwaizumi after being deliberately rude, shrugging. "I suppose it'll be more effective if I don't give you a heart attack in the process."

Kageyama looks down at their hands, still touching, and yanks his away quickly, scowling deeply. 

"But now I think we know the right track," Oikawa says.

"What?"

"Your _crush_ on me."

"I don't – "

"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, hand over his chest, looking smug about it."I can literally feel it."

"Th- that – _anyone_ – if you said – _things_ – "

"I'm pretty sure if you said _things_ to me, I wouldn't – "

" _Tooru_ ," Kageyama says, grabbing Oikawa's hand. Not the gentle, flirtatious touch Oikawa used, it's a clumsy grip and he knows it, and he leans in far closer to Oikawa had, so fast that Oikawa is startled and leans back. He looks straight into Oikawa's eyes. "You're amazing."

It comes, a sudden, thick brush of emotion, warm and tingling and too surprised for Oikawa to hide, pink warming his face as he stares in open shock.

"Whatever," Oikawa finally says after a second, yanking his hand free. "That's – _whatever_." 

He expects Oikawa to gloat a little maybe, about being right, that this is a good way to try to bond, but he seems just as flustered as Kageyama. He lays back on the bed and tosses Kageyama's phone back to him.

Kageyama pretends to scroll, but his heart still races in his chest when he thinks about Oikawa's stare, the tone he used – and it's distracting. He gives up trying to concentrate and just curls up on the bed, thinking about nothing until he sleeps.

~

Oikawa is angry.

The force it, the intensity, jerks Kageyama from sleep like a rude shove. 

He opens his eyes – it must be very late, because he can't hear anything out in the halls at all, and it's dark enough that all he can see is the only thing lit up in the dark hospital room: Oikawa's face, glaring down at the cellphone screen. 

Oikawa's handsome features are twisted up in rage, and because he's so perfect looking already, it makes his features look like something inhuman, like a mask.

Kageyama feels like he's stumbled somewhere he shouldn't be, something private, not meant to be seen – like in stories where children get lost late at night and end up where youkai live, and end up cursed because their curiosity gets the better of them. He always told himself he'd be smarter than the characters in the story as a child, but maybe not. 

He closes his eyes, and eventually Oikawa finishes, turning off the phone and setting it down to charge. He lays down, and once Kageyama is sure he's asleep, he leans over Oikawa to see what he was up to.

It's a conversation, with Iwaizumi.

 **Me** :  
Iwa-chan is staying up awfully late for such a serious student  
How are your classes?

 **Iwaizumi** :  
Fine.  
It's not that late.  
**Iwaizumi** :  
I'm sorry.

 **Me** :  
Why

 **Iwaizumi** :  
for a lot of things

 **Me** :  
Say them  
or they don't count~  
( ˘ ɜ˘) 

**Iwaizumi** :  
i'm sorry i was too scared to bond with you  
i'm sorry i was too scared to talk to you about it  
i'm sorry i didn't go after you  
i'm sorry i cant do anything about any of it.  
i'm sorry i wasn't there

 **Me** :  
That wasn't as satisfying as I imagined it would be

 **Iwaizumi** :  
sorry

 **Me** :  
Okay. Good night.

It doesn't seem bad, really, more sad than anything, but Kageyama is still reminded of curses when he plugs his phone back in and lays down, pretending he'd never woken up at all.

~

By the third morning they're still not bonded, but Oikawa gets his conditioner, and Kageyama gets his volleyball.

Sugawara sneaks it in with his messenger bag, telling Kageyama to be careful, because the nurses would not approve, and it'll probably be taken away if he's caught with it.

Sugawara decided to go shopping in Osaka, and brought his bags up to the room with him. "There's such a difference in selection in a big city like this – I found olive beef for 6,000 yen!" He takes the heavy, wrapped package out of the bag, showing it off.

"That's enough for steaks," Oikawa says, as they both stare enviously. 

"I was actually going to try to make some dumplings," Sugawara says, putting it away. 

"You're not going to broil it?" Oikawa asks, sounding offended.

"I know, it's a waste of marbled meat, but I can experiment more with flavor..."

Apparently Oikawa is interested in cooking, too. The two of them spend the rest of Sugawara's visit talking about different ways to prepare beef, while Kageyama lays on his back and tosses the ball in the air, enjoying the company, the closeness, without any pressure to speak himself. 

"The energy in here seems way better than it did before," Sugawara tells Kageyama as he's getting ready to leave, smiling. "It's a relief. Oh – I almost forgot!"

Sugawara pulls out a pamphlet from his bag. It has the two omega symbols at the top, overlapping each other, and for a moment Kageyama is horrified, not sure what it could be – he's only seen symbols like that on porn.

"Would you relax?" Sugawara laughs. "You seemed really unsure about bonds, before. This is specifically about traumatic bonds that omegas form, I thought it could help."

Kageyama nods, taking it, but when he opens it he sees charts and arrows, lots and lots of tiny, complicated looking paragraphs and feels overwhelmed. 

"Thanks," he says anyway, nodding. Sugawara smiles, waves goodbye to both of them, and they both stare after longingly. 

"What are they serving for lunch today?" Oikawa asks, almost wistfully.

"Curry rice," Kageyama says, setting the pamphlet aside to start bouncing the volleyball again. "Miso soup, fish."

Oikawa sighs. "What's your favorite food?" 

"Beef," Kageyama says, immediately.

Oikawa snorts.

They spend the next few hours sitting on separate beds, hitting sharp, underhanded receives to each other, bounced against the wall between them.

"You seem more relaxed about the bond thing," Oikawa says. 

Kageyama frowns, snapping the ball sharply when he gets it.

"No?" Oikawa asks.

"Like you said," Kageyama says. "It has to happen."

They continue to serve the ball in silence, and Kageyama thinks about the advice Sugawara gave him, about speaking more. Finally, he takes a sharp breath.

"My parents were – bonded," he says.

Oikawa is obviously surprised, but doesn't interrupt. 

"They severed it. My father never recovered."

"Right," Oikawa says, his voice is only nice, but Kageyama feels impatience creeping against him. Oikawa wants to say something – is waiting for him to finish so he can go, and Kageyama quickly loses his nerve. 

"He lost his job and everything, and then he killed himself," Kageyama rushes out.

Oikawa blinks, catching the ball, the impatience Kageyama felt pressing against him suddenly cutting out, just that quick. 

"How do you do that?" Kageyama asks. 

"What?" Oikawa asks, looking disoriented. "What about – your dad? How old were you?"

"Six," Kageyama says. "How do you – stop your emotions like that?"

Oikawa raises and eyebrow. "I guess I don't know," he says, and tosses against the wall. Kageyama receives, tossing it back. 

Kageyama waits for Oikawa to say whatever he'd been impatient for before, but maybe he forgot what it was. He seems distracted, tossing the ball lightly, giving an open palmed serve, but his aim is off, and it hits the bed post, then _slams_ into Kageyama's face.

" _Oh my god,_ " he jumps to his feet, but Kageyama only hears it, as his head _flies_ backward, vision blinded by the sudden flash of bright white pain 

"Everything alright in there?" a nurse asks, poking her head in the door, and Kageyama forgets the injury, quickly hiding the ball under the blankets and pillow behind him.

"Nothing!" he shouts, awkwardly.

"Oh – goodness," the nurse hurries in, looking at Kageyama's face, lifting his chin for a better view, and he feels something warm slide down his face and can only assume it's reopened wounds in his face. "What _happened_?"

"Nothing," Kageyama says again.

"It's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed," Oikawa laughs, a little forced. "Tobio-chan fell as he was getting into bed!"

"I see," the nurse says. 

She leaves, then comes back with supplies, and at the end of it, Kageyama has a proper eyepatch.

Hinata is delighted.

 **Me:**  
0000000000934588.jpeg

 **Hinata** :  
WHAAAAT  
That's so cool!  
but  
you still have ur eye right???

 **Me** :  
why wouldn't i

 **Hinata** :  
real pirates didnt have eyeballs anymore when they had eye patches  
dumbass 

**Me** :  
pirates arent real dumbass

 **Hinata** :  
dumbass yes they are!!!

 **Me** :  
no theyre not  
they're fake

"Were pirates real?" Kageyama asks instead of continuing the fight he like he usually would, because he figures Oikawa will be able to settle it.

"Not like," Oikawa says. "How they look in movies, but yeah. They were real."

Kageyama looks back toward his phone, slowly.

 **Hinata** :  
well how was I supposed to know!!!!! 

**Me** :  
maybe try not to be a dumbass

He sweats as he types it, though, and ends the conversation as quickly as possible, dropping his phone on the bedside table in favor of the volleyball.

~

"Who's this?"

Kageyama leans over to look at the photo Oikawa's pulled up on Kageyama's phone.

"Atsuko. My sister. She plays volleyball, too."

"Alpha?"

Kageyama nods.

"Two alphas?" Oikawa asks, like this is something awful, but Kageyama just shrugs. He's seen people joke about how alphas can't live together, but it's never been especially bad in his family. Hinata and his younger sister are both alphas, so are Tanaka and his older sister, and none of them have any problems. Sometimes his sister and mother fight, but he thinks that's the case in every family. 

"You take a lot of pictures of cats," Oikawa notes. "What's this?"

Kageyama feels his face heating a little in embarrassment. It was taken during the summer break between classes, all the first years in Karasuno decided to see a movie. Hinata had been looking forward to it for a while, and decided to dress up, like super fans in America do for big premieres. It had embarrassed Tsukishima so badly that he refused to stand in line next to them. 

"We're seeing a movie."

"Okay, but why is Chibi-chan dressed up like that? Did someone trick him, or…" Oikawa wrinkles his nose in confusion, looking back down at the phone. "Was he.. confused… ?"

"He was just excited."

Oikawa's eyebrow raises very slowly. "He was just excited."

Kageyama nods. 

"… So he dressed up." At first he thinks Oikawa is about to cry, because his voice shook a little bit, but then he sees how Oikawa is biting on his lips, fighting a smile.

"Yeah."

The first laugh is wheezy little huff of air, Oikawa is still trying to fight it, ducking his head, hiding his face behind his hand. But once it's out, it's out, growing as he continues to laugh, bracing himself against the bed as he continues.

He's not sure if it's feeling Oikawa's amusement so clearly or the contagious laughter itself, but Kageyama has to stop bouncing the ball, setting it on the bed to calm his body, his shoulders bouncing with sudden laughter. 

"We – we went out to eat like that," Kageyama says, voice wobbling.

Oikawa has to pick up his pillow, shoving it against his face to shout into it. When he pulls the pillow away, he sees that Oikawa's eyes have started to water a little, but he seems a little more composed, until he looks down at the phone again, and he starts laughing again – Kageyama feels it as clear as if it was his own, it sets him off again, snorting loudly as he tries to stop it, and Oikawa flops onto his back, and rolls to the side.

"Oh my god," Oikawa gasps, arms spread, chest visibly shaking with the laugh. "Okay," he says, calming. "Okay." 

Kageyama has a sudden memory of the hostess's expression when she saw Hinata, and how it was almost exactly the same as Oikawa's baffled confusion – and Oikawa actually laughs first, rolling back upright, looking at the picture again. 

"Thhh – " Kageyama gasps for air. "The hostess pretended like – he wasn't wearing it. Didn't say anything."

"Oh my _godd_."

Kageyama is panting, wiping at his eyes, calming down, when he feels it in a wave, Oikawa's amusement peaking again, and they both bust up laughing again, Kageyama slapping at the mattress, head dropping forward. 

"Holy shit. I'm gonna die. Holy shit."

"One of us – should've – left the room," Kageyama gasps, breathless. He suddenly remembers Oikawa's expression when he looked down at the picture again, and giggles weakly, it hurts to do anything more than that. 

Eventually the laughter dies off to a few shaking gasps for air, and they're left staring at one another again. Like the competitive rage earlier, it is odd to have his exact emotion mirrored back at him from Oikawa. 

Oikawa is thinking the same thing, apparently, and he flops onto his back in frustration. 

"What is taking so long?!" he asks the ceiling, spreading his arms. "This shouldn't be so hard! You – told me about your dead dad! You're – not a murderer! You're clean! You smell good! So what's the problem!?"

Kageyama perks a little at that.

" _What??_ "

"You said you hated my scent at Kitagawa Daiichi," Kageyama says. 

Oikawa stares at him, as though processing that very, very slowly. 

"But – you don't." 

"I guess," Oikawa says, reluctantly, face heating up. "I do not."

Kageyama feels the grin on his face, before a pillow is _slammed_ into it. 

" _Shit_ ," Kageyama hisses, covering his still tender injury.

"Ah – sorry, really, I forgot – sorry. Your face just looked so stupid," Oikawa frets, dropping the pillow. Kageyama glares, grabbing it, and smacking Oikawa back. "That's not fair! I can't hit you back!"

Kageyama hits him with the pillow just one more time, then drops it. 

He knows it's something bad, but – Oikawa doesn't hate his scent. It's one of the most important things for a bond, so it _could_ happen, he _could_ bond with Oikawa, and part of him was really, truly happy about realizing this.

He's laying out on his stomach, and feels Oikawa laying down next to him. 

Oikawa stares at Kageyama's face with a thoughtful frown, and there's been so much constant contact between them that it doesn't even feel particularly odd when Oikawa runs his fingers across Kageyama's forehead, a thumb running down his eyebrow. Over the apple of his cheek, then down, to his chin. His hand pauses on Kageyama's neck.

Finally, he pokes Kageyama's forehead, almost accusingly.

"Why isn't it working?"

Kageyama doesn't have an answer. 

~

 _Guilt_ , for Kageyama, is a very specific emotion, tied to a very specific time. It's seeing the damage he caused to his teammates at Kitagawa Daiichi without realizing it. Otherwise, it's not something that haunts him very often, and it's a very uncomfortable feeling. His dreams are shadows of that time, those people, that place, until they grow so unpleasant he finally wakes up.

Oikawa's anger was rough and aggressive. Oikawa's guilt is just as strong, but it – clings. It wraps around him and squeezes.

Kageyama sniffs a little, wiping at his face, trying to wake up, looking over to see Oikawa staring blankly at the ceiling. 

It's a long time before either of them say anything. 

"I was under the assumption," is the first thing Oikawa says, very slowly. "That it could've been anyone on the train – any omega. And I would've bonded with them."

Kageyama nods. He'd assumed the same.

"But all these bonds," Oikawa says, shaking the pamphlet in his hand. "All happened when omegas were trapped weeks or months together."

This is significant to Oikawa, obviously, but Kageyama doesn't follow. "So?"

"We were stuck together less than an hour. There was something there already," Oikawa says. "To begin with. There had to've been."

Oikawa couldn't sound more sure of himself, it's almost enough for Kageyama to go along with, but he doesn't like where this is going.

He knows what Oikawa is going to say, that Kageyama had a crush on Oikawa, that he still admired Oikawa, still worshiped Oikawa – 

"It was me," Oikawa says. "I instigated the bond, on the train."

Kageyama stares, shocked. 

"Because. I'm a selfish piece of shit, honestly," he laughs. "I just wanted someone to lean on, and I knew you could take it." Oikawa breathes in and out. "Not many people – " he stops, smiling angrily again, licking his lips. "Not many people know how _just_ how shitty I am."

Kageyama watches.

"I hold back a lot, and I do it a lot," he says. "Even with Iwaizumi."

"You… trusted me?"

Oikawa looks over, and Kageyama's surprised to see his eyes are a little glassy. "I guess I did," he says. " _Do_. You've seen – all of it, I think. The worst. So when I needed – someone I could show my worst to – "

He feels Oikawa's _anger_ , but Oikawa's eyes are growing wet. 

"I thought I could stop them," he says, through tightly grit teeth, covering his eyes. "I really fucking thought I could stop it."

"You told me not to fight," Kageyama says, confused. 

"Tobio," he laughs brokenly. "There are other ways to fight, and I thought I was – doing it, I thought – and – god." he laughs again. "I'm doing the same thing now! I've been trying to keep you away this whole time, as if we could actually bond like that."

Kageyama is confused, because it had seemed like Oikawa was trying to get especially _close_ , if anything.

"I was trying to control it," Oikawa calmly explains, clearing his throat, apparently understanding the source of Kageyama's confusion. "Get you close enough to bond, on my own terms, because, _of course_ , I thought I could control it. But. I can't – control anything." He laughs again, dry and broken sounding. 

"You can't trick me into bonding with you," Kageyama says. 

Oikawa lifts his hand into the air, then drops it. "Apparently not," he laughs again.

"But. I think it would help if you trust me," he says. "Like you did before."

"… Alright," Oikawa nods, easily, but it's sort of mocking, like Kageyama made it sound too easy. "Alright. So – I thought I could stop them, somehow, but I was too fucking weak, I wasn't smart enough, it's humiliating. And I fucking – used – you. Just – and we're both fucked now, I fucked everything – everything is – ruined now, everything – Iwaizumi – " He stops, jaw clenching hard, tears leaking down the sides of his face. " _Saw_. And I – I fucking – I couldn't stop it, I couldn't – "

On the train, it had been a pull. Kageyama had practically felt it rope around his waist, a clear and distinct feeling, cutting through the horror around him, a clear line to safety. He'd followed, because it was welcoming, and safe, and he was terrified.

This time, it's a call for help, Oikawa's horrified, muffled screams, anger and embarrassment and pain and _guilt_ , grabbing toward Kageyama desperately, and he could step clear, but – no, he couldn't, he couldn't do that.

He reaches to meet Oikawa's shaking, broken need. It's a lot, it takes the breath from Kageyama's chest, the intensity of it, like stepping out into a hurricane, but Oikawa was right. Kageyama can take it.

They're curled up together in a way that has already becoming familiar, but with Oikawa's emotions sweeping over him like this feels like – more. 

He bites first. 

It's instinctive, feels like the right thing to do, that'll help the pained creature he's trying to soothe, and when he feels Oikawa's bite against his own neck a thick, comforting hum settles over his mind, spreading to Oikawa, and everything grows peaceful and calm. 

~~~~~~~~

Oikawa and Kageyama are finally being released from the hospital today.

Iwaizumi waits in the lobby, feeling surprisingly calm about it. Some people – most people, Iwaizumi thinks – wouldn't want a big scene, but this is Oikawa, and he'd asked for it specifically. All of Aoba Johsai and some teammates from Tsukuba are showing up to celebrate _his recovery_ , and that's all anyone is going to refer to it as.

Iwaizumi would've preferred to meet him alone, but he wonders if that's something Oikawa is deliberately trying to avoid.

"Iwaizumi-san."

Iwaizumi waves at the newcomer – Kyotani, both hands in his pockets, expression particularly dark and uncomfortable. Iwaizumi nods to greet him then – 

Stops.

The smell makes it immediately, horrifically obvious. Iwaizumi doesn't ask for permission, actually growling low in his throat as he storms toward Kyotani, who freezes on instinct, growing even stiffer when Iwaizumi reaches him, grabs the high collar from his jacket, and flips it away from his throat.

A bond mark.

"Jesus fucking Christ," Iwaizumi says, stepping away, but then immediately circling back, pulling the collar away again for a second look at Kyotani's neck, as if hoping he'd imagined it the first time.

There it is again. 

A bond mark, from an alpha. Iwaizumi walks past him, out of the room, and of course it doesn't take long to track Yahaba down. No alpha would stray far from their freshly mated omega. 

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Iwaizumi demands, shoving Yahaba toward the wall in a snarl.

Yahaba is only a few centimeters taller than Iwaizumi, something they'd have to be standing side by side to even notice. Iwaizumi has at least twenty pounds on him, though, and he's never so much as stepped up against Iwaizumi, not in two years of training. 

Instincts, though, are a powerful thing, and Iwaizumi only touched Kyotani but Yahaba can clearly smell it, and clearly knows what Iwaizumi is doing – it all translates in a very primal way to a challenge for Yahaba's omega, and his eyes dilate, face twisting to something dark, as he shoves Iwaizumi back as hard as he can, snarling. 

It's not just Kyotani's bond mark. It's his fight with Oikawa, it's the alphas that hurt him, it's Oikawa being kept away from him for a week, it's knowing, _knowing_ it's entirely his fault. It's everything.

He loses it, shoving back – "What _the fuck_ ," Iwaizumi shouts, both fists in Yabaha's shirt. "Were you _thinking_?! After – after _this_??" he waves his arm at the hospital hall around them. "How stupid are you?!"

" _This is why!_ " Yahaba shouts, sounding frustrated, straining to pull away. "You didn't mark Oikawa-san when you could! I didn't want – _that_!!"

Part of him isn't really listening, the alpha in him only sees a member of his pack, unruly, challenging him – _put him down_ , make him submit, prove his strength – 

A hand over Iwaizumi's, and he snaps his eyes over, glaring, ready to fight this intruder, until he sees its Kyotani. _Omega_. Not a threat. 

"Yoo-hoo! Iwa-chan!"

 _Omega_ \- no, not just omega. _Oikawa_. 

Everything else is forgotten completely, he releases Yahaba with a rough shove, turning toward Oikawa's voice. 

Oikawa's chin his tilted back, showing off his mark. 

Iwaizumi heart races at the sight, thoughts dimming to a peaceful, calm nothing as he zeroes in – Oikawa. Oikawa's neck.

"Well? What do you think?" Oikawa's voice keeps talking as he gets closer, a distant, pleasant buzz. Iwaizumi likes the sound of it, but doesn't try to make sense of it. He likes Oikawa's smell, he likes looking at Oikawa and he – would very much like – to taste him – 

And then he is. 

His teeth sinks into the soft skin of Oikawa's neck. 

Oikawa's body stiffens in surprise, and Iwaizumi bites harder, getting a better grip. _Oikawa, Oikawa,_ they'd been separated for so – long – the warmth of his body, solid and familiar in his arms – it couldn't possibly get any better, until it is, when he feels Oikawa biting back.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just. A heads up, there's about 4k before this matches up with the cliff hanger of the last chapter. We get there though. Some might ask, why did I end at that cliff hanger if I still had so much ground to cover between here and there? And to them I say, http://imgur.com/X6WjzAE
> 
> Starts out with Oikawa's POV, switches to Kageyama's.

The longest Oikawa's ever gone without sleep is three days. 

It happens, sometimes, when he's fixated on something – good or bad – and his brain just won't slow down. He'll try, he'll stare up at his bedroom ceiling for hours before finally giving up, rolling out of bed and digging his fingers into whatever's keeping him awake.

Of the four days in this hospital room, he thinks he's managed about seven hours of sleep all together, and he's fairly sure Kageyama is the only reason he even got those. Kageyama's presence in his mind is impossible to ignore, and while asleep he's like an anchor, sinking deep and steady into the dark, quiet bliss of unconsciousness, forcing Oikawa's busy mind to actively fight against the pull in order to stay awake.

Oikawa doesn't have the energy to fight right now, but Kageyama's not quite sleeping. He's pressing up against Oikawa's chin. 

Nuzzling.

"You're punch drunk," he tells Kageyama, accusingly.

Kageyama slowly blinks dark eyes up at him, pupils fat and unfocused. Obviously not processing it.

Oikawa's heard of this happening after bonding, sometimes. If a bond was especially intense, or, more likely in this case, the omega bonding is particularly young – sixteen year olds really have no business being bonded. 

And yet. 

Oikawa drops his head against the pillow, eyes tracing the now familiar patterns of the hospital ceiling as Kageyama pushes even closer against him. 

This is not Oikawa's story. 

Oikawa's story is nationals, college, classes, scouting, games, _Iwaizumi_. It hasn't all gone according to plan, but _this_?

He made peace with it, in a sense, deciding to view himself as some kind of benevolent, long-suffering martyr who made a sacrifice for someone weaker. Needier. Realizing that _he_ was ultimately the weak and needy one makes his lip curl. He's been trying to swallow it down since he realized, but it's stuck in his throat like an awful, prickly knot.

Last night it felt like he was literally burning alive from his anger, his humiliation and pain. Fulfilling the bond with Kageyama - Oikawa swallows, heart picking up a bit at the memory. Kageyama's presence reaching out to his - was _soothing_. It was amazing. It was all-encompassing. It was everything everyone's ever said about it. Not only did Kageyama's uniquely blunt, straightfoward presence remove the pain, but replaced it with a profound sense of - peace. Satisfaction. Oikawa is always chasing something, always trying to go higher, get _more_ , and for a moment, it felt like he'd actually grabbed it, and it was safe to relax.

Of course, he doesn't know Kageyama's story. He's fairly sure Kageyama doesn't know it either, outside of volleyball, but – maybe it was Hinata. Maybe it was Baldie. Maybe it was some random student in math class, or a stranger at the park, maybe it was no one.

Whatever it was, Kageyama's new story, as written by Oikawa, is pressing his face against Oikawa's neck while drugged up on endorphins from the bond he never wanted.

It feels wrong to indulge, wrong to acknowledge it, wrong to _enjoy it_ , wrong to look down and see the simple, sweet happiness on Kageyama's face – 

Because, right now, in the afterglow of the bond, Kageyama is happy. He is very, very happy, the way Oikawa felt last night, and Oikawa should not be proud of that. Oikawa's never thought of Kageyama as a liar, but the sheer intensity of his sincerity is overwhelming, and feeling the full scope of Kageyama's emotions is like getting hit upside the head with a bat. 

_Tooru. You're amazing_.

Oikawa pinches his mouth shut, heart picking up _again_ as he remembers Kageyama's expression when he said before, squeezing Oikawa's hand tight enough to hurt. The look on his face alone would've been enough to tell he meant what he was saying, but feeling the full, monstrous scope of it – 

And having Kageyama against him like this, cheeks pink with his happiness, soft and welcoming, tempting in a way _Kageyama Tobio_ has no right to be – Oikawa grits his teeth – 

_No one would know_. Not even Kageyama would remember.

Quickly, as though afraid of losing his nerve, Oikawa returns the embrace, closing his eyes as he breathes in the sweet scent from the top of Kageyama's head, holding him tight, tight enough that his arms shake briefly, probably too tight to be comfortable, but if anything this only makes Kageyama happier, returning the embrace.

They spend the morning curled together in this contented knot, and Oikawa manages maybe another hour of sleep. 

~

"Thank _goodness_ ," is the first thing his mother says when she walks into the room. "You two were starting to worry the doctors."

"Eh?" Oikawa says. "They said five days! It's only been four. And thank you, mother."

He reaches out for the bag she's carrying, full of clothes from Oikawa's old bedroom, for his hopefully imminent discharge from the hospital. 

"They said they want to do some more observation," his mother says. "And a bonding consult, but they're hoping you'll still get out today. _Aaand_ – "

Oikawa looks up – inhaling in happy surprise. "Mom!"

"I just got it back from the police this morning," she says, handing over Oikawa's phone, smiling. "They've already been able to get footage from the security cameras at the station – "

"How's dad?" Oikawa interrupts, easily slipping a smile onto his face. 

"… Your father," his mother says slowly, allowing the topic change. "Is happy you'll be able to leave the hospital soon. Though he's still – well. You know."

Oikawa is feeling merciless, so he raises an eyebrow in question, as though he doesn't know.

"He's ready for this year to be over," his mother says, diplomatically. 

Oikawa watches her gaze shift to Kageyama, her expression carefully neutral. 

_The omega that replaced Iwaizumi_ , he knows she's thinking. The omega they have to put up with for the next year. Because Oikawa wants to show off, and because he really can be awful, getting a bit of vindictive enjoyment out of his mother's annoyance, and he rests his free hand against Kageyama's neck, running his thumb along the sharp line of Kageyama's jaw, blatantly affectionate. Kageyama hums a little, smiling as he nuzzles closer to Oikawa, and he freezes, not expecting that reaction. He immediately regrets it, at least in front of his mother, because he has an urge to do it again.

"So," his mother says, visibly forcing herself into a positive mindset, clasping her hands together in her lap, smiling again. "Let's see it."

Oikawa tilts his head to the side, bringing Kageyama's mark into view. 

"Oh," she says, breath catching. "It's gorgeous, Tooru."

"Annoying, right?" he laughs. He hasn't been able to stop messing with it, staring at it through the camera's phone, rubbing, poking – right now the skin is still tender, like a bruise, but it should heal soon.

There are magazine articles, bonding experts and products that claim there are ways to perfect a bond mark – practicing bites on plums, practicing mouth shapes while slurping in ramen, and so on, but Oikawa knows now it's all garbage. There's no way Kageyama was ever reading advice columns on the aesthetics of bonding, and he still left a perfect little mark Oikawa's only seen in movies.

"Omega marks are so much more – tasteful than alpha ones," Oikawa's mother says with a frown, fingers on her own mark. It's biggish, pale, a sort of wobbly blob. She usually touches it up before leaving the house, darkening it and smoothing out the edges, tsking to herself as she does. "And how did yours turn out?" she asks, peering to look at Kageyama's neck, but it's hidden against Oikawa's shirt. "Oh. Is he asleep?"

"No, just out of it," Oikawa says, and tries flicking Kageyama's ear to get his attention, but all he does is look up at Oikawa and frown sadly, like he's not sure what he did to deserve that. "Move over," he says. Kageyama clearly doesn't follow the words, but understands Oikawa's hands, encouraging him onto his other side.

"Oh!" Oikawa's mother says, and the impressed tone is obviously forced. "It's nice."

"Meh," Oikawa says, waving away her platitude. It's fine. If Kageyama hadn't left a masterpiece on his own neck, he'd probably be pretty proud of the deep red oval on Kageyama's, but in comparison it's just. Fine. Normal. 

His mother can't stay long, again, and is actually saying her goodbyes at the door when a doctor comes in, and the two women bump into each other.

"Excuse me," his mother says, stepping aside for the omega doctor, who smiles and bows in thanks. 

She's Kageyama's doctor and after taking stock of the situation, asks Oikawa to hoist Kageyama's unresisting body upright so she can get a look at his eye.

"His scans from intake came back clean, but you can never be too cautious," she's saying, as Oikawa holds Kageyama up against his chest, and she presses her thumbs along the edges of his wound with slow, firm pressure. "Hm. Was he hit again?"

"Ah," Oikawa laughs awkwardly, vividly remembering each time Kageyama's head was knocked backward. He gives a weak shrug. 

"The swelling's gone down a bit, at least…" She takes off her gloves and considers the both of them. "I think I'll schedule one more look, just to be safe."

After Kageyama's taken out of the room for his second exam, Oikawa is abruptly alone – but not.

The bond is a steady thing now, no longer waxing and waning with Kageyama's presence, always there, and he can feel Kageyama's sleepy contentment as clearly as he could when Kageyama was lying on top of him like a cat. 

It's actually a very comforting thing in this quiet room, as he unlocks his phone – and nearly drops it when he sees he has over _three hundred_ unread messages. 

It's a daunting number of texts even for Oikawa, the only thing that's ever come close is ninty-eight, on his sixteenth birthday. The surprise turns to confusion when he sees fifty-three of them are from an unknown number. 

"What the… " he mutters, and ignores those for now, sending quick _thank you!_ s to a few messages from worried acquaintances, and short updates on his status to closer friends – he pauses at Iwa-chan's name.

He can see, in the preview, that the last message sent is from him. An image.

Oikawa deletes the text chain, sets his phone aside, and takes a shower.

~

When Oikawa opens the door to the washroom to let the steam out, he sees Kageyama has returned and is sitting up in bed like a real boy, one knee pulled up to his chest, on his phone.

It's not an especially unusual scene, but something about it makes Oikawa suddenly nervous. "Uh."

Kageyama glances up, fully awake. He's still in a good mood, still riding the edges of the bond, but his severe, haughty impassive expression gives none of it away. 

"How's your eye?"

"Fine," Kageyama says. 

Oikawa nods and heads back to the washroom to finish getting dressed. When he comes back out, he knows what he's going to say, he went over it in the shower several times, but he still finds himself clearing his throat a little awkwardly.

"Thanks."

Kageyama frowns, tilting his head in confusion.

"For the bond," Oikawa says. He's ready to elaborate further, but Kageyama's unpleasant expression and rising embarrassment makes it clear he is not interested. 

"Yeah," Kageyama says, diverting his glare. 

Oikawa stares, not expecting that. He's surprised by the hurt, and quickly shifts to anger instead. It's too late for Kageyama to shy away now, and Oikawa is annoyed with at this pathetic attempt to do so.

"And I know I just cost you a year of your life. And a pretty – important year, so – "

" _Okay_ ," Kageyama forces out. Oikawa could almost laugh at the intense scowl on Kageyama's face. His emotion is something Oikawa's really never felt himself before, a sort of squirming, impatient agony – _stop, stop, **stop**_.

" _Fine_ , alright," Oikawa says, lifting his hands in surrender. "Just. I'm sorry."

"Okay." Kageyama is frustrated – _annoyed_ by all this, and it's like a shove to Oikawa's chest when Kageyama stands, and walks into the washroom without another word, shutting the door harshly on the entire conversation. 

Oikawa rolls his eyes when he hears the shower switch on.

Fine. 

Obviously, it's unpleasant! The whole thing. It's humiliating. Obviously, Kageyama has decided to just avoid thinking about it entirely, to just ride out the year with his head as deep in the sand as possible. Of course, that's the smart thing. Oikawa can't stop himself from stewing, though, feeling _rejected_ , which is something he is really not used to, and from Kageyama of all people - 

The door to the washroom is suddenly thrown open, and Kageyama stands there, dripping wet. 

" _Oikawa-san_ ," Kageyama says, just below a shout. "I didn't bond with you to be _thanked!_ "

Oikawa stares, gobsmacked. "… Alright."

"And the only apology I want is from Sarayashiki!"

"Okay."

Kageyama nods, and then shuts the washroom door again. 

Oikawa blinks into the silence, his phone sits in his limp hand, entirely forgotten.

What on earth? Oikawa is good at reading people, and he marvels at just how completely off base he was, even with a clear view into Kageyama's mind. He is – flustered, but mostly fascinated. It's like walking into his childhood home and discovering an extra door he'd simply never noticed before, never bothered to open, unknown, uncharted, _exciting_. What else is going on in there, in Kageyama's mind?

"Huh," Oikawa says.

~

 **Iwa-chan** :  
There's a western-style bbq place a few blocks from the hospital  
Tsurugyu

 **Me** :  
YES  
THAT  
THERE

 **Mattsun** :  
you don't want to do something quieter?

 **Makki-kun** :  
I'm up for whatever  
haven't seen you guys since July

 **Me** :  
what's loud about it  
Yes, good Makki!  
d(⌒⌒)b

 **Mattsun** :  
texting you always makes me miss my sister  
who is also a 14 year old girl

 **Me** :  
(눈‸눈)

 **Mattsun** :  
loud is inviting everyone in aoba johsai and half your team from tsukaba 

**Makki-kun** :  
oh  
is kageyama coming?

Oikawa looks up at Kageyama, who is still damp from the shower and wearing the too-small hospital scrubs.

"Here," Oikawa says, tossing over the bag of street clothes. "My mother brought extra."

Kageyama blinks, catching the bag with his chest. There's a bit of childish excitement when he opens it up and realizes what's inside, which surprises Oikawa. Kageyama doesn't seem like the type that cared much about clothes. 

"It's all old stuff I left at my parent's house," Oikawa says. "Keep 'em, if you want."

Kageyama pulls out a long sleeve shirt – semi-transparent, requiring an undershirt, and obviously for an omega, then looks at Oikawa in question. 

"My sister went to Australia last summer," Oikawa says, immediately understanding Kageyama's baffled expression. "Sent back a whole duffel full of clothes."

At their height it's hard to even find alpha clothes that fit, let alone omega styles. Extra large specialty stores typically cater to wider bodies, and there's really not much selection for an omega over 180cm and svelte in Japan. 

Kageyama nods, putting it back in the bag and picking the only other top, a t-shirt with a cartoonish Grey alien on the chest, and a pair of shorts. 

Oikawa licks his lips, unsure of why he's nervous about this. "First thing I'm doing," he says. "Is getting some barbecue."

Kageyama is still putting on the shirt so Oikawa can't see his expression, but his stomach audibly growls and Oikawa snickers.

"Iwa-chan found a western style place down the street," he says. Then, very casually, "You coming?"

"What – right now?"

"I said first thing," Oikawa says. 

"Uh," Kageyama opens his mouth, then closes it again, as though thinking very hard, or listening very hard to something he can't quite make out – 

Oikawa stiffens. Kageyama is feeling Oikawa's _nerves_ about asking him along. His face heats. "It's a yes or no question!" 

"I'll – have to ask my mother." Kageyama says, then his scowl deepens. "But I probably won't be discharged tonight."

"Why? You said your eye was fine."

"There was an emergency at my mother's job," Kageyama says, balling up the scrubs and tossing them toward the hamper in the washroom. "She had to travel. The doctors said she doesn't want me to leave until she gets back."

"Oh," Oikawa says, not sure how he feels about that.

"But maybe," Kageyama shrugs.

The call to his mother does not sound promising, though. Oikawa does his best to pretend like he can't hear it, or feel the steady frustration on Kageyama's end. 

A lot of short grunts from Kageyama – _Yes. … Yes. … No. … A lot. … Kunimi and Kindaichi..._

Oikawa's done a good job tuning out, when, after a long period of silence, Kageyama says, "I can walk home by myself." He sounds a bit annoyed, and the frustration in him is starting to crack, something raw leaking through. 

It was obviously the wrong thing to say, and Oikawa can hear the cadence of a testy alpha, speaking at length on the other line. 

Kageyama says nothing, arm wrapped around his knees at his chest, the curve of his back particularly frail. He looks and sounds very young, and very sad, when he says, "I want to go home." 

Like everything Kageyama feels, the desperation is intense. 

He's on the phone for another minute or so without saying more than a few grunts, then hangs up. 

Oikawa waits, but Kageyama doesn't say anything.

"So?"

Kageyama glances over out the corner of his eye. "I can go."

It's not the answer Oikawa expected, not from the general misery floating around him.

They're sitting side by side, it's only a slight shift of his weight that gets Oikawa close enough to touch, close enough for Kageyama to lean against him, if he wanted, and settle with his head against Oikawa's shoulder, which he slowly does, while Oikawa chips away at the mountain of messages on his phone. 

Finally, the only ones left are from the mystery number, and it takes about a second of scrolling for Oikawa to realize who it is. 

His expression goes flat. He shakes his shoulder, annoyed. "Did you give Shorty-kun my number?"

Kageyama looks down at the messages. "I let him copy my contact list when he got a new phone," Kageyama says. "For the Karasuno numbers."

"And you didn't tell him to delete mine?"

"I didn't think he had to be told!"

"Well, whatever," Oikawa says, typing up a short, cordial thanks for Hinata's concern. He glances over and sees Kageyama texting furiously.

 **Me** :  
hey  
weirdo  
why'd u keep kitagawa daiichis numbers??

 **Hinata** :  
what  
who???

 **Me** :  
the team that beat your shitty team in jr high  
u copied their phone numbers from my phone  
delete them now

 **Hinata** :  
NO!!!!  
hey  
r u coming home today???

 **Me** :  
yeah  
but late  
Delete them dumbass

 **Hinata** :  
M ake me  
( ･_･)ﾉ ⌒ ●~*

 **me** :  
is that a volleyball

 **Hinata** :  
no it's a BOMB  
BUT  
( ･_･)ﾉ ⌒ ●  
NOW IT IS!

Oikawa watches Kageyama copy the emoticon, editing it before sending it back.

 **Me** :  
●  
＼(-_＼)

 **Hinata** :  
AAAHHH  
AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!  
THAT'S SO COOL KAGEYAMA!!!!!!!  
YOU'RE SETTING IT!!!!!  
ok  
i'll delete them

Oikawa scoffs. If Matsukawa thought _Oikawa's_ texting was immature, he should see – 

**Hinata** :  
d(⌒⌒)b

… Well. Then.

The door opens, and Kageyama sits up straight immediately, flustered.

"Ah, I apologize for the wait!" 

It's a short, round alpha with a beard, hurrying into the room. "I'm Atsushi, the bonding counselor here at Tsukuba."

Oikawa and Kageyama nod shortly.

"Well, well," Atsushi says, giving a blatantly appraising look as he sits across from them, eyes lingering on their legs. "Very nice to meet you. You're Tobio-kun?"

Kageyama nods.

"So you're Tooru. Great. Perfect," he says to himself as he writes something down. "I was actually called in to help you two finish the bond, but it looks like you worked it out in the end." He smiles at the picture they make on the bed, effortlessly close. Embarrassment strikes in Kageyama, but Oikawa stares back, deadpan, doing his best not to react to the stare, or to the tone that is approaching suggestive. "So, basically I'm just here to help guide you through the process, make sure you don't have any questions, and just be a resource here at the hospital. Sound good?"

"Sure," Oikawa says, as Kageyama nods, very seriously.

"I've already reviewed your case, and I think this is going to be pretty straightforward," Atsushi says. "With severing the bond as the ultimate goal, we need to ensure that it's as stable as possible. The best way to do this is physical proxmity. Tooru, you're enrolled at Tsukuba University. I think the best course of action is to prioritize your classes, and have Tobio-kun move in with you, for the next month or so – "

Neither of them make any noise, but the looks on their faces must be enough for him to stop.

"I see Tooru has his own apartment off campus, right?" Atsushi says, looking confused, checking his paperwork. 

"I go to school in Miyagi," Kageyama says. "I can't leave for a month."

"Well," Atsushi says. "I think the most practical thing to prioritize is Tooru's college. He's already enrolled, it's more expensive – and frankly, it's not as though – " he laughs a little. "You really need school."

He's saying it as a compliment. One of the only reasons omegas were originally allowed in alpha and beta schools was for the chance to socialize and court mates their own age. In comparison to the arranged mating with much older alphas, it had been seen as progressive at the time. 

Implication being, Kageyama is attractive, and doesn't need the assistance in order to catch an alpha. Oikawa feels his lip curl. This alpha probably isn't an idiot, but it's clear how Oikawa could pick him apart, if he wanted. Easily. He could be coy and flirtatious and get him to bend, bit by bit. It's a game Oikawa knows, a game he used to enjoy, but he finds that part of himself hollow, and furious.

Kageyama clearly hasn't picked up on any of it. "My team – "

"I'm sure any clubs you're in will be fine without you." 

" _No_ ," Kageyama says, so forcefully it makes the counselor lean back.

"If you want to spend time with your friends, realistically – "

" _Realistically_ ," Oikawa says, echoing the alpha's condescending tone. "Kageyama is a nationally ranked player. He was chosen for a spot on the Junior National Team. I'm hoping to get an offer from a professional team in the next two years. Neither of us can afford to leave our lives for a month."

Atsushi looks startled, then he laughs – still condescending. "Ho, ho! I see we've got a couple of omegas who know what they want!" Atsushi says. "But I've been doing this for a while, and it's better safe than sorry, and I still recommend Tobio-kun moving in with you for the time being."

Oikawa glares. He could've avoided that, he could've been sweeter, made it seem like Atsushi was kind and benevolent, indulging them by working around their classes. The thought of doing so now sets his teeth on edge. Atsushi is a dumpy old man. Probably someone's father. Unimpressive. 

"The next thing I think the two of you should consider is an alpha companion," Atsushi says. "Bonds between omegas without an alpha's more rational influence can grow unstable, and it will make the severing process much easier – "

"Atsushi-san, you're here to give advice?" Oikawa asks.

"Yes."

"And to answer our questions?"

"Yes."

"So if we don't have any questions, and we don't want your advice," Oikawa says. "It sounds like this consult is over."

"That's hardly – "

"Thank you for your time, Atsushi-san!" Oikawa says with a smile. He stands, grabs his jacket and bows shortly.

Kageyama watches this with wide, startled eyes, but scrambles off the bed to follow, grabs his gym bag from the corner then bows as he backs out of the room.

"Weekends," Oikawa says, once Kageyama catches up to him in the hall, texting the chat to let them know he's coming. "We'll start with weekends and see if that works."

"Okay," Kageyama says, bewildered, looking back toward the room.

"We're not going to get in trouble," Oikawa says. "He wasn't a doctor."

"Right… " Kageyama says, but still sounds lost. 

"If you want to go back, go ahead."

"No, I – " Kageyama starts, then stops, looking frustrated. Oikawa curls his lip, resisting the urge to grab Kageyama by the shirt and _shake_ whatever it is out. Finally, he spits out a constipated, awkward, "Thanks."

Oikawa freezes, practically feeling his anger tripping over its feet, falling flat on its face.

"Yeah. Well," he mutters, hurrying down the hall. "Alphas."

~

Except for last year, when beta Kunimi and omega Kageyama joined Kitagawa Daiichi, Oikawa's only played with alphas. He thinks he's been through the worst of it, but when he walks into Aoba Johsai's gym the third week, he has to literally pinch his nose.

" _Gross_ ," he whines, and he can feel Iwaizumi freeze up as the smell hits him, too.

It's – beyond describing. It is a very, very _bad_ smell, not just musky and potent, but _angry_. As practice starts, the source becomes obvious: third years, angry about one of the regular wing spikers – Kyo – stealing their tosses. It's been happening for a while, and last night he did it during a game for the first time. 

It's already been resolved, Kyo was taken out of the game in the third set and Coach Irihata scolded him for being impatient and selfish, but tempers are still high.

It's not a fight, yet, but there's been a few warning snarls, one especially rough shove, and it's only a matter of time. Everything about the smells and noises coming from the alphas warn Oikawa to stay quiet, and far away, make himself as small as possible and hope to be ignored. Oikawa does not like being _any_ of those things, but it's intimidating, and Oikawa is not an idiot. He keeps to the sides of the court, practicing quietly.

"Oikawa," Coach Irihata suddenly calls, halfway through practice, waving him over. 

Oikawa is surprised and quickly rushes over. Irihata usually leaves practices to Mizoguchi, but maybe the scent was enough to get his attention, too. 

"Work on your tosses with Kyo."

Oikawa is horrified. "Right now?" 

"Right now," Irihata nods.

Oikawa looks back over his shoulder at the group of alphas – three of them, openly glaring at Kyo, just as angry as they were at the start of practice. One of them throws a ball toward Kyo and he barely catches it before it nails him in the head, and they two glare, hot and angry. 

Oikawa looks back toward his coach, but Irihata only nods again, looking unconcerned.

Oikawa swallows, and slowly turns, grabbing a ball from the car, and gives a confused little shrug to Iwaizumi as he passes. 

"Kyo-san," Oikawa calls, approaching slowly. His voice sounds annoyingly hesitant, so he clears his throat and puts a smile on his face, and holds up the ball. "Want some tosses?"

"What?"

As expected, all the alphas look over sharply. He expects them to sneer, to make snide comments about a first year being too stupid to keep to himself, and just – vague, undefined fear of violence, though he has a hard time picturing any of his teammates actually attacking, it's exactly what the smell is warning. 

None of that happens. They look at Oikawa, holding the ball with an awkward smile on his face, and slowly, as though waking up from a daze, start coming back to themselves. The tension doesn't vanish, but there's an obvious difference as they shake their heads and clear their throats.

Kyo nods after taking a sharp inhale. "Sure. Sounds good." He's unable to make eye contact with anyone when he adds, "Want some, Mako?"

Mako, who had started drifting away, looks over his shoulder and glares hard at Kyo. 

Testing something, Oikawa takes another step closer, smiling. "Yeah, I can toss for Mako, too!"

Mako looks between Kyo and Oikawa, as thought fighting to keep his anger up and failing. 

" _Fine._ "

Oikawa tosses, and the third years spike, and give advice, and by the end of practice the tension has peacefully deflated, like a balloon that was carefully, patiently unknotted, rather than popped. Oikawa thinks about this as he helps gather the extra balls, and Irihata confirms his suspicions when Oikawa asks, a little hesitantly, before heading to the club house.

"To an angry alpha," Irihata says, sounding amused. "The only thing more interesting than a fight is an omega."

Oikawa nods, his face heating a bit but he's not entirely sure why.

"And," Irihata says. "If you want to be captain one day – " Oikawa chokes. He hasn't talked about that to anyone but Iwaizumi! In secret! But Irihata says it easily, like it's not a big deal at all, and actually smiles at Oikawa's surprise. "You can't be intimidated by alpha temper tantrums."

"Y-yes, sir," Oikawa nods, and hurries out to the clubhouse, where Iwaizumi is probably waiting, annoyed and impatient.

~

"Great," Oikawa says in disgust at the stench wafting through the hall. 

Kageyama hesitates at the smell, but Oikawa _did_ become captain of Aoba Johsai, and knows how to force down the instincts to run in the other direction.

Alphas are fighting, or close to it, and one of them is Iwaizumi but – Oikawa's not quite sure who with… it's sort of familiar, but… 

They turn the corner. Ah. Yahaba. He's always seemed a bit above alpha posturing, he certainly never did it around Oikawa, at least, and the smell is new.

Iwaizumi has him pinned against the wall, and it's easy to piece together what probably happened: Yahaba said something particularly smart mouthed, and on edge from the last week, Iwaizumi lashed out. It's not a serious fight – Iwaizumi is holding him still, not attacking. Yahaba is enduring it, furious, but he hasn't dropped far enough to actually fight back – he knows he's outmatched. It's pretty clear neither of them want this, but alphas can almost never back down to another alpha.

"Yoo-hoo! Iwa-chan!" 

It's an excuse to let go, and it works. Iwaizumi is distracted from his target, letting poor Yahaba go with a rough shove, which is good, but the tension doesn't fade. 

"Well?" Oikawa says, lifting his neck for Iwaizumi to see the mark, unable to think of a better distraction than that. "What do you think?" 

_Wrong move._

In the half a second it takes for Iwaizumi's teeth to sink into his skin, Oikawa reflects on that in almost amused disbelief. What sort of idiot – showing his _neck_ to a keyed up alpha – and then everything in his mind whites out in the unthinking hum of a bond, of Iwaizumi, a boy he's trusted with every important thing even before he knew their names.

~

"So, what? You don't love me?"

"Of course I do!" 

"But when I bit your neck, nothing happened!" On the screen, the American actor punches the wall in frustration. 

Tooru lays on his stomach, watching, shoving popcorn in his mouth. Tooru likes watching movies at Hajime's house. They're allowed snacks like this – Tooru's mom only gives him nuts and pretzels and other boring food, and because Hajime's parents trust him, they're allowed to watch all sorts of violent movies unsupervised. 

"What'd I do wrong?!" asks the alpha on the screen.

"You can't _force_ an omega to accept a bond," says the omega. "It has to be consensual."

"So… you _don't_ want it?"

"I want it – but…" the omega turns away dramatically.

"This movie sucks," Hajime says, bored. It's movie for adults, so there should be action and fights, but so far it's just been a lot of talking. Hajime he doesn't like the talking parts, because he doesn't know English as well as Tooru, and he doesn't like reading the subtitles. "Let's fast-forward." 

"It's almost done," Tooru lies. He can tell they're going to keep talking for a while. 

"Omegas are _sensitive_ ," says the omega. "You have to be... _gentle_. Ease into it..."

"Oh. I get it," the alpha says, suddenly smiling wolfishly. 

Tooru freezes, eyes go round.

"Hajime."

"What?"

"I – " Tooru stops, because suddenly the alpha grabs the omega's shirt and rips it open, buttons flying. The omega gasps, turning her head to the side. She's not wearing anything underneath, and Hajime sits up straight while Tooru covers his mouth with both hands, and they stare at her breasts. "I don't think this is a fighting movie."

It isn't. They watch in riveted, shell shocked silence as the two actors have sex – real sex, Tooru's sister said all kissing and sex in movies were fake, but she obviously didn't know about movies like this – and in the end the alpha bites the omega's neck, and they're bonded. "That's more like it," says the omega, with a cheeky wink toward the camera.

It finishes, and Tooru doesn't really know what to say. 

Silently, Hajime climbs off the couch, takes the movie out, and puts it back in the case, and then carries it out of the room.

When he comes back, he asks if Tooru wants to play out in the yard. 

They're in the middle of soccer when, suddenly very frustrated, Hajime says, "If an alpha wants to bond with you – you should make sure they do a better job than that, okay?!"

Tooru is surprised, then smiles so hard he feels his cheeks dimple with it. "Okay." He knows, though, that it won't ever be a problem. It will obviously, obviously be Hajime, and Hajime will obviously do a good job.

~

"I – " Iwaizumi stutters out, eyes wide, his arms still around Oikawa's waist. "Tooru, I'm – "

"Iwa-chan," Oikawa interrupts, smiling. He knows it doesn't reach his eyes. "Aren't you getting tired apologizing? Because I'm getting tired of hearing it."

There's a long silence between them. Iwaizumi shifts as though trying to step away, give Oikawa his space, but Oikawa realizes his hand is in Iwaizumi's hair. He flexes, gripping tighter, crueler, keeping Iwaizumi in place. Finally, Oikawa forces himself to let go, and step away from Iwaizumi, and face the other shell shocked alpha in the hall.

"Yahaba! How are – "

Iwaizumi grabs Oikawa's shirt. "Tooru, we need to – "

Oikawa stops, looks down at Iwaizumi's hand, then grabs Iwaizumi's wrist, stepping close again.

"It didn't matter when you asked," Oikawa says, voice quiet as he squeezes Iwaizumi's wrist with his full strength. Oikawa is not weak. Oikawa is not helpless, and it's satisfying to watch Iwaizumi flinch as he realizes this, releasing his hold. "The answer was always going to be yes. And you knew it. And you did it here and now. That's very selfish, Iwa-chan."

"I – didn't mean – "

"But you did, and you got your answer," Oikawa says, gesturing up at the mark he feels, hot and spreading against his neck. He glances down impassively at the bite he left on Iwaizumi's neck. It's prettier than the one he gave Kageyama, a dark red circle. He looks back up to Iwaizumi's, frankly terrified, face. "What else do you want from me? What else can't wait until later? We have – " he almost laughs. "The rest of our lives."

That is true, and it actually calms some of his anger. There will never be a time in Oikawa's life when he won't want to smell Iwaizumi, when he won't want to be around him. It truly doesn't matter where and when. This is embarrassing, this was badly timed, but he knows this was always going to be the end result. The methods are not as important as the end result. 

"Be patient," Oikawa says, smiles again and pats Iwaizumi's cheek. 

It's actually the suspicious absence of Kageyama in his mind makes him remember the other omega's existence. 

Oikawa looks behind him, where Kageyama is standing, expression uncertain, gripping the bottom of his shirt and working the edge of it between his fingers like a small child might, diverting his gaze to the wall beside him. 

Obviously they're still bonded, so Kageyama is there – Oikawa has to search in his own mind in order to feel Kageyama pulling away, a desperate want to _not been seen_ , profoundly uncomfortable. 

"Tobio-chan," he says. Kageyama looks over, and Oikawa realizes he didn't really have anything to say, he just – didn't like Kageyama drifting away, for some reason. He clears his throat, coming up with a reason. "You know Yahaba?"

Kageyama and Yahaba look at one another, and give identically awkward nods. 

"Let's meet the rest of the team," Oikawa says. "They're here, right?"

"Uh," Iwaizumi says, looking surprised at being addressed. "Yeah. The lobby."

Oikawa nods, then looks again to Kageyama, who has yet to take another step forward. "Well?"

~~~~~

Yahaba looks like a very kind version of Oikawa, and he smells like cinnamon and apples.

There's no reason for Kageyama to be intimidated by him. 

He doesn't know why he is as he follows after Oikawa. 

All he wanted to do was leave the hospital room, but now that they are, each step away from it feels – bad. His mother had wanted him to wait until she could get back to Japan to go home, and it had felt like she was asking the impossible. Now he wonders if this is the impossible thing.

He trails behind slowly, and Kageyama can smell all of Oikawa's friends as they approach the lobby. He hears them talking in there, and hesitates again before walking in. 

A sudden had on his shoulder, and Kageyama blinks in surprise.

"Iwaizumi-san?"

Iwaizumi's grip is tight, and the intensity of his expression is enough to distract from the uncomfortable feelings.

"It's good to see you," he says, like it's important that Kageyama believes it.

"You too," Kageyama mutters, embarrassed. 

"You don't have to come with us," Iwaizumi says quietly. "Oikawa's – Oikawa. If you want, you should call your parents – "

"My mom's not here," Kageyama says. He'd like to go straight to his house, but his mother said, specifically, he can only go home without her if he's walked there by Kunimi, the only beta present that she knows and trusts. This is too embarrassing to say to Iwaizumi, so he just shrugs. "It's fine."

Iwaizumi narrows his eyes, checking Kageyama's expression, then lets it go. 

Kageyama watches Iwaizumi walk into the lobby. He still feels nervous, he still wants to go home, but – somehow Iwaizumi noticing, and asking about it, makes him feel the things in his ways are just obstacles he can endure, and not something impossible.

~

"We're having lunch in the courtyard."

"Oh," Tobio says. His fingers flex around the lunch he brought from home. He has been looking forward to lunch, to privacy, all morning. He likes this time to himself, and when Kindaichi grabs Tobio's bento box to encourage him to stand up, he fights him on it, pushing it back to the desk.

"Come _on_ , Kageyama," Kindaichi says, rolling his eyes. "Don't be weird about it."

"All the first years are going," Kunimi says. "Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san, too."

"This is your chance to try to – you know," Kindaichi says, gesturing with his hand. "Make a better impression on Oikawa-san."

Tobio looks down at his lunch, frowning hard. He likes to spend time with his team, but when it's not practice he feels out of place, and nothing Tobio says seems to be acceptable to Oikawa, and he just – he wants to eat lunch.

"Oi. You all coming?" 

The rest of the first years in Tobio's class stare at Iwaizumi, who is standing in the doorway of the room, holding his lunch. 

"Maybe you can convince him," Kindaichi says, stepping aside, pointing accusingly at Tobio.

Iwaizumi frowns a little, stepping into the classroom. 

Tobio glares down at his lunch, knowing he will not be able to say no to a direct request from Iwaizumi to join them.

"If Tobio wants to join us, he will," Iwaizumi says. "Right?"

Tobio looks up in surprising, feeling a rush of gratitude, nodding quickly. 

"We'll be in the courtyard," Iwaizumi says, and holds out his fist. Tobio stares at it for a moment before realizing what he's asking for, face heating with excitement as they pump together. "Come on," Iwaizumi says, nodding to the doors, and Kindaichi and Kunimi follow.

Tobio spends the rest of his lunch bent over his desk, face bright pink, head spinning as he replays the moment in his mind over and over again. 

~

"To be honest, some good could come from this." 

"Really?" Oikawa asks, flat.

"Mm, yeah, we were talking about it on the way over. I don't think coach really knew how much you were improving the team until now."

The group is big enough that they had to get a private room at the restaurant, which Kageyama is grateful for. He's sitting next to Oikawa, and the wall, and across from them sits three players from Tsukuba University. 

Kageyama is already familiar with two of them from their teams at nationals, five and six years ago. Kazama Taichi and Saotome Yuto. They're both powerful spikers, Kazama was an ace on his high school team, they're regular players at their university as well, and Kageyama isn't surprised to hear that they're interested in Oikawa's return.

"Ha, yeah!" says the third player, one Kageyama doesn't know but was called Yoshi-san by a starstruck Kindaichi when he arrived at the restaurant. "The coach was wondering why the b-line suddenly seemed so ' _lazy_.' You could practically see when he realized you weren't there anymore."

Oikawa looks happy about this, chest puffing up a bit, and his pride feels warm and confident, and Kageyama likes it, much more than the anger that keeps peaking in Oikawa's mind.

"Oi, Oikawa," says Kazama. "I've never seen an omega mark like that before."

"Yeah. Looks just like an alpha one," Saotome says, resting his chin in his hand, holding his saki between two lazy fingers. "You bonded with an omega, right?"

Both of them look to Kageyama, as if double checking that he is an omega. 

They're both alphas. 

Kageyama doesn't know why this fact is making his palms sweat, why their stares feel like a challenge. He tucks his chin a little closer to his chest, standing his ground. 

"I did, but," Oikawa laughs a little, briefly resting his hand on the back of Kageyama's neck, an attempt at soothing coming through the bond. "Iwa-chan couldn't seem to wait."

They both look at Iwaizumi in surprise.

"You're – not gonna drop out, right?" Saotome asks.

"Of course not," Oikawa scoffs. 

"Two bonds in one week," Kazama laughs. "Busy boy, Oikawa."

"Isn't that a little – uh," Yoshi frowns, eyes going from Iwaizumi, to Oikawa, to Kageyama. "You know."

"My parents are a trio." That's Kunimi. Kageyama can't see him, but he can hear his cool and impassive voice, and the look in Yoshi's face freeze up. 

"Nothing wrong with that!" he quickly says, then looks back to Oikawa. "Hope it works out."

Kageyama waits for Oikawa to talk about severing the bond, about how it's only going to last a year, but instead he just smiles nicely. "Thank you," he says.

Aoba Johsai's energy is very different from Karasuno's.

If Karasuno was in a room like this, it would be very loud, and bowls would probably be knocked over, there'd be fights, and a lot of yelling, and a lot of laughter. 

He can hear Aoba Johsai all talking to one another, and it sounds like they're enjoying themselves, but it's quiet and calm – the only time Karasuno could get this quiet is when something especially bad happened. 

Kageyama leans his head against the wall beside him, thinking. He wonders if he would've fit in with this team, if everything had gone like it was supposed to. 

He'd been so miserable the summer after junior high. Everything had seemed awful, he had been blocked from all the powerhouse schools in Miyagi, left with Karasuno, where he learned too late that Coach Ukai wasn't going to return. He'd wished for Aoba Johsai or Shiratorizawa, because he didn't know that Asahi was waiting for a decoy to help get his spikes through, that Daichi and Nishinoya were waiting for receives, that Hinata was waiting for the right setter to put his speed and jumps to use. A year later, Kageyama knows it was luck that put him in Karasuno. He wouldn't be the setter he is without them, and he's thankful for that.

He looks at Oikawa's neck. His own bond mark is hidden for now, under Iwaizumi's fresh bite, but he knows it will bleed through again, after it's healed. 

Kageyama wants to feel lucky that this happened. 

He wants to feel like there was a reason he was hurt and – grabbed that night. 

Kageyama feels a frown taking form, a miserable one, one that's shaking, and looks away, but not fast enough to avoid Oikawa's sudden, worried glance his way. 

He doesn't think there will be a good reason.

Trying to imagine one is making him feel awful.

"Excuse me," he says, standing up from the table.

Kageyama can hear the room grow quiet as he leaves, feel the stares, feels Oikawa's steady confusion and concern, but he doesn't stop. He closes the door, and stands there a moment with his eyes closed very tight. 

When he opens them, Kageyama glances to the left, past the public tables, toward the door. He imagines leaving the restaurant and jogging home... It'd be dumb to try, but he likes the thought.

He spends a long time in the bathroom, looking down at the running water. 

Oikawa has Iwaizumi. All Oikawa wants is Iwaizumi. He was nice to Kageyama because he needed to bond. Now they're bonded, and it's the real world, _not_ the hospital, and Oikawa can be with Iwaizumi, like he was supposed to be, and – 

Kageyama grips the sides of the sink, pure frustration making his eyes sting and his face scrunch up. _Maybe there will be a reason,_ the stupidly hopeful thought comes again, as if giving one more attempt to ward off tears. Maybe – something really good – will happen. He's too embarrassed to even think it in his own head. He washes his face, hard, then scrubs it dry with the shirt he borrowed from Oikawa. He clears his throat from the lingering thickness there, and finally leaves the room.

Off the court, it's not often that Kageyama meets people who are taller than him. The feeling is distinct, and his entire body freezes up when he senses the presence of someone taller coming up behind him – _hands, touching, grabbing, jerking him_ – 

Kageyama jumps, spinning around. Middle blocker – Hanamaki. He puts both hands up, to show he isn't a threat. 

"Whoa! You alright?"

Kageyama nods sharply, taking a step back.

"You were taking a while, Oikawa was getting kind of worried," Hanamaki says, then grins. "But you probably knew that."

Kageyama nods again. 

"Uh," Hanamaki raises an eyebrow, taking another look at him. "You… seem a little uncomfortable. You sure you're alright?"

Kageyama nods again, not thinking about the answer, panic beginning to rise. 

"Hey – oh. Good," Matsukawa is poking his head out the door of their private room. He calls back over his shoulder, "He's right here."

Matsukawa is taller than Hanamaki. He stands at his friend's shoulder when he comes out to join them, and the two are big enough to block Kageyama's view of the door completely, which makes the panic more pronounced - _no escape, no escape_. Yoshi is even taller than the both of them, when he decides to come out, too, followed by Kindaichi - 

"He okay?" Kindaichi asks, though he's looking at Kageyama, and could've asked directly. His face is red, he's a little drunk.

"You okay?"

Kageyama opens his mouth, but nerves and fear jamming up everything from his brain to his throat and nothing comes out. 

Yoshi looks down at him, then sucks in air through his teeth in a noise of pity. "Kid's gone alpha-shy."

There's a beat of silence.

 _Alpha shy._ It's something that happens to very tiny, cute omegas in mangas. It would make even – having dinner with a group of alphas a nightmare, let alone playing against a team of them. It would ruin any chance of playing at a competitive level. 

"No, that's – "

"Not a real thing," Hanamaki says, but they're all stepping back, giving Kageyama his space, staring at him in a mix of horror and pity. 

"There's no way," Kindachi laughs, shaking his head.

"Look at him," Yoshi says. 

Kageyama opens his mouth, frustrated with himself and determined _say something_ but all all that comes out is a pathetic little whine. It's an omega noise, instinctual and desperate.

"Oh, no," one of them says, soft and sad. 

" _Hey_ ," Iwauzimi says, not loud, but impossible to ignore, and Kageyama hears some of the diners in the public area freeze at the noise. "Back off, already!" 

They apologize, the group filing back into the private room, and as they go, Kageyama sees both Iwaizumi and Oikawa behind them, waiting outside the doorway. 

The hall is full of alpha smells, and he can't smell Oikawa – only a lingering trace on the borrowed shirt. Kageyama swallows, clenching his hands into fists. 

"I want to go home."

Oikawa nods, and bats Iwaizumi's shoulder, forcing him back into the room. Iwaizumi, who still looks furious, looks back and forth between Oikawa and Kageyama, like he's reluctant to go, and Oikawa sticks his tongue out at him, then slides the door shut in his face. 

"Okay," he says, stepping closer. Kageyama doesn't want to, doesn't plan to, but as soon as he gets within arms reach, he's grabbing for Oikawa, putting his face in his neck. Oikawa sighs, hand on the back of Kageyama's head. "Let's head down to the train."

"I need Kunimi," Kageyama mutters, embarrassed to have to do it.

"... Eh?" Oikawa asks.

~

"I don't think you're alpha-shy," Kunimi says. "I think you're just freaked out. This dinner was a bad idea."

"Yeah," Kageyama says, as they walk down the steps to the bullet train. 

"Do you know what I hate?"

Kageyama flinches, bracing himself, pretty sure there's not any good answer to that. "No."

"Ice."

Kunimi had seemed incredibly impassive in the restaurant, even moreso than usual, when he was told he had to be the one to walk Kageyama home. 

Kageyama had assumed it was because Kunimi was annoyed, or maybe feeling bad about everything, but he realizes, as they take a seat on the train and Kunimi continues to complain at length about ice, that he's just incredibly drunk. 

Kageyama is grateful, though, not in the mood for any kind of serious conversation.

"They fill the cup with it so they don't have to give you as much to drink," Kunimi is still going as they exit Tsukuba. "And when it melts, it dilutes the drink. And, I saw a special once, about how restaurants don't clean out their ice machines, so they're full of germs – What? Why are you making that face?"

"Wouldn't… it just be.. water?" Kageyama asks. What do they need to clean?

Kunimi stares for a second – then gives such a surprising burst of laughter, Kageyama almost jumps. "Oh my god. Kageyama."

He knows Kunimi is laughing at him, but it's been so long since he's seen him happy that it's hard to get annoyed - Kageyama actually holds back a smile at the sight.

"Germs live on water, too, Kageyama," Kunimi finally explains.

"Right."

" _Heating_ the water – ?"

Kageyama's face heat as he cottons on. "Kills them."

"Freezing the water doesn't," Kunimi finishes the thought, obviously still amused, but he's always been good at explaining things without being mean about it, and being drunk hasn't changed this. "Do you think we would've won?" 

"Wha – ?" 

"Back in Kitagawa Daiichi," Kunimi says. "If we had all stayed on the court."

Kageyama looks down at his feet. He knows the answer immediately, he's wondered about it enough. He nods.

Kunimi nods. "I think so, too."

Silence.

"You were nice when we first met," Kunimi says, smile still lingering on his face. "Weird, but nice."

Kageyama stares harder at his shoes, anxiousness rising. He doesn't know what to say. 

"I almost quit, third year."

Kageyama looks up in shock.

"You were – " Kunimi narrows his eyes, struggling to figure out the right word. "Awful. _Awful_ to play with. I love volleyball. It took a long time for me to remember that after playing with you."

Kageyama swallows, then nods, stiffly.

"And I don't like confrontation," Kunimi says, then covers his mouth to cover either a hiccup or a soft burp. "I was just going to stop showing up, but Kindaichi – Kindaichi was sure he could fix it. He tried talking with you – and you got _worse_."

"Yeah."

"You were nice, once… " Kunimi says again, sadder this time. He sighs. "Then Kindaichi tried talking to the coach, and Coach Yoshino didn't do anything, so – what else was he supposed to do?"

Kunimi actually looks at Kageyama as though expecting a response, and Kageyama's mouth works, "Uh – "

"He wasn't going to quit, and he wasn't going to let you keep – _shouting_ at him like that. So what else? What else what he supposed to do? He was in junior high."

Kageyama nods quickly, his shoulders hitching up in shame.

Kunimi stares at him for a long moment then sighs again, dropping against the seat. 

"But," he says. "You were in junior high, too."

Kageyama looks over in surprise.

"I remember being jealous that you never freaked out during games," Kunimi says. "It didn't matter how poorly we did. Then I realized you were freaking out when you started getting – annoying. And _mean_ , and loud. But you didn't make mistakes, so you got to stay on the court. I was jealous of that, too."

"But then I realized you never… when most players freak out, they start making mistakes, so they get switched out, and they get a break, and calm down," Kunimi says. "But you never made enough mistakes to get pulled off the court. So you never got to calm down. When it started to happen in interhigh last year, I couldn't believe when your coach subbed you out for that other setter!" His eyes open at the memory, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's all I ever wanted Coach Yoshino to do, but when it happened, I remembered thinking how risky for your team… how _stupid_. One game away from the prefecture qualifier! Of course Yoshino never had the guts. As long as you were still going, of course he was going to keep you in. But that wasn't fair to you. Or to us. It gave you a lot of bad habits, I think."

"He said he could sub me out any time," Kageyama says, he'd always known it was an option, Coach Yoshino reminded him constantly, if he couldn't handle the pressure, there were others who could take his place – 

"He _threatened_ you with getting replaced," Kunimi says. "He did it to all of us. Honestly." He covers his mouth again, and it's definitely a burp, cheeks puffing out a little. "I don't think things between you and Oikawa-san ever would've gotten as bad if it wasn't for Yoshino."

"What?"

Kunimi shakes his head, waving his hand. "Never mind. I don't know anything. It was a while ago."

Kageyama nods, accepting this, but then Kunimi's starting up again, louder than before.

" _All I know is_ , Coach Irihata wouldn't have handled it like that," he says. "Competition is good, but he knew Oikawa was afraid. We all did. He just made it worse."

"Afraid?"

"Afraid. Of you." 

Kageyama just stares, and Kunimi shakes his head again. "Don't worry about it."

Kunimi really has finished for now, and has started closing his eyes, bringing his knees up to his chest, somewhat awkwardly of the small space of the bench. It forces him sideways, against Kageyama's shoulder.

"What are you gonna do?" Kunimi asks, sleepily, as his eyes close.

"About what?" Kageyama asks.

"Oikawa. Your bond. Your – your fucking _life_ ," Kunimi laughs a little flatly. 

"I'm not sure," he says.

"Well," Kunimi snickers, lifting his arm up over his own head to pat Kageyama's, awkwardly. "You'll always have volleyball."

By the time they get to Miyagi, Kunimi is asleep, and doesn't want to wake up, grouchy and uncooperative when Kageyama gets him up onto his feet.

He wobbles a bit under Kunimi's full weight – he's skinny, but tall, and it's an awkward weight to carry, especially with how Kunimi's feet drag on the ground, tripping both of them up. 

"Wa- wait, stop – " Kunimi suddenly says, hitting Kageyama's back repeatedly in a panic. Kageyama stops, unsure of what Kunimi needs, and he stumbles the few steps to the sidewalk to be sick in the bushes of his neighbor's home. 

"You could – stay at my place," Kageyama offers, as his hand hovers over Kunimi's back, not quite able to bring himself to touch. He's sure coming home like this will cause some problems, his own mother would destroy the world if Kageyama came home in this state, but Kunimi waves him off. 

When his father answers the door he seems surprised, but not especially angry at Kunimi's state, but double takes at Kageyama.

"Oh," he says, looking suspicious. "Tobio-kun."

Kageyama nods. It must be odd, Kageyama thinks, to have your son dropped off at your home by his junior high bully.

"Do, uh – you want to come in?" he asks, gamely.

"No, thank you," Kageyama says, and bows a brief goodbye, so anxious to get home he ends up running most of the way. 

He fumbles as he unlocks the door, showers, and even though it's a warm night, he bundles up in pajamas – as an afterthought, dropping Oikawa's shirt on the bed, just in case – curling up in his own blankets, on his own bed, and thinks he's too worked up to sleep, but drops off almost immediately.

~

Kageyama wakes abruptly, feeling happiness so intense his eyes are wet. It's profound – the intensity of the bliss, a kind of relief, like finding something he thought was lost.

It's Oikawa. 

Kageyama tilts his head back on the pillow, panting, unsure of what to do – the feeling is so strong it takes another moment to even realize he's in heat.

Maybe that's why he was so nervous around the alphas? And so desperate to get home? Though his heats have never hit like that before, it's a better answer than being alpha-shy.

Kageyama hands grip the bedsheets, breathing in shakily. Oikawa – is _extremely_ happy. And – and something else, something that makes his stomach flex in a tingling way he doesn't fully understand at first, and feeling it in same makes him – makes him – 

He's not sure, but he ends up rolling onto his stomach, sliding a body pillow between his legs, flexing his thighs around it. This feels good, it – feels good. 

~

" _Try jumping!_ " 

"I _am!_ "

In the Kitagawa Daiichi gym, Kindaichi and Kunimi were put in charge of mopping, and Kageyama was gathering all the extra balls. He's gotten all but one, which is lodged in the bars of the basketball hoop. Kindaichi and Kunimi are watching, leaning against the mops, cheering him on and laughing, as Kageyama uses a stick, jumping, trying to tap it free.

"Commit your heart, Kageyama-kun!"

"You can do it!"

But even jumping his highest, Kageyama can't reach. He's pretty sure one of the third years could, he could ask, but he wants to do it on his own – 

"Here."

Kageyama blinks at the sound of Iwaizumi's voice, very close – _very_ close, then chokes a little at Iwaizumi's hands, suddenly on his hips. Iwaizumi hoists him up into the air with strength that makes Kageyama's mouth fall open.

"Can you reach?" Iwaizumi grunts, straining. 

"Uh – y-yeah," Kageyama says, head spinning. He knows it should be embarrassing. Iwaizumi would _never_ handle an alpha or beta like this, and if it was anyone else lifting him up, it would be, anyone else's hands wrapped tight around his hips, thumbs digging slightly into the small of his back – but Iwaizumi isn't mean, and Kageyama isn't upset, really, he just – just – 

He jabs once at the ball, and it arches high, dropping to the floor. His face is so red when Iwaizumi sets him down that Iwaizumi laughs. "You alright?"

Kageyama nods, but he's got so much confused energy in him that it turns into a bow, and he escapes, running after the ball. 

That night, just two hours later, while watching television with his sister, he remembers the feeling of Iwaizumi's hands at his hips, of his easy, impressive strength, has his first heat. 

~

Kageyama has seen himself done, there's really no other options during heats. It's always simple and fast, and he doesn't think about anything, biting his lip as he grinds against the pillows or works with his hand. 

Combined with Oikawa's – feelings – though – he needs more. There's something dangling in his mind, a craving he can see the outline of, and if he thinks hard enough about it, he'll know what fits in there...

Daichi.

He's the only person Kageyama's imagined like this, the way Daichi smells like freshly brewed coffee and clove, he only does it because of one specific time: the meeting where he passed behind Kageyama, setting his hand on the small of Kageyama's back as he went. 

"Scuse me," Daichi had said, smiling kindly, removing his hand – large and warm – but it still left a sudden, surprised tingle up Kageyama's back. 

It was very easy to imagine the hand staying put – Daichi pulling him closer – thick, strong arms around Kageyama's waist – a shudder through his body, but it's not quite right, not quite – not – what he needs right now.

~

"What's wrong?"

Tobio shakes his head. _Go away_ , he wants to say to Iwaizumi. There's only one month left before the end of the year, and he knows he's running out of time to impress Iwaizumi. For Iwaizumi to want to hit his tosses, to want to play with him. He definitely won't want any of that if he sees Tobio crying in the clubhouse like a grade schooler because he can't get his shoes right.

"If there's nothing wrong," Iwaizumi says. "You better get to practice. You're going to be late."

Tobio sniffles hard, and stands up, and it gives his problem away.

"And get your shoes on properly."

He can't. They're new, and they fit in the store, but then his mother tightened the laces once they got home, and he's been picking at them since he got out of class, but they're too tight, and he can't cram his feet back in – 

Iwaizumi frowns, bending down on one knee to look. "Sit down," he says, and Tobio does, his face heating in misery and frustration, his fingers aching from trying to loosen them, the tips of his fingernails ruined.

"It's okay," Iwaizumi says, soothing and calm, hand on Tobio's knee, because apparently he's still sniffling. "It's important to get this right. Some players tie them up too tight and damage their toes."

Tobio nods. 

It feels like there's pressure on his chest, sometimes, when he comes to practice, because he always tries his best, but Oikawa never likes it. To mess up on something so easy, something a baby could do, is so awful it almost makes his head swim. He can't imagine how Oikawa will react when he hears about it..

He doesn't realizes he's worried about all that, though, until Iwaizumi puts his thumbs in either side of the shoe, pushing outward, and the tops of the laces loosen a bit. Patiently, slowly, he goes through, row by row, pulling the laces up, speaking calmly the entire time, and Tobio realizes that it won't be as bad as he thought. Maybe Oikawa won't even find out. He sniffles again, for another reason he's not really sure about, but it's not bad. 

"You don't want them too loose either, this is a mistake a lot of people make," Iwaizumi says, still calm and soothing. He finishes tying the knot. "Alright? That feel good?"

Tobio knows how to check this – he's done it a lot. He rolls his foot and takes a step, testing the support on the heel.

He nods. "Thank you, Iwaizumi-san," he says, wiping at his cheeks. 

Iwaizumi smiles, and rests his hand on the top of Tobio's head. He doesn't ruffle Tobio's hair, though, like he usually does, and Tobio blinks in surprise when he feels Iwaizumi's thumb brushing gently across his forehead. 

"It's... been nice playing with you this year, Tobio," Iwaizumi says. "Make it to Aoba Johsai so we can play again, alright?"

His eyes are warm and fond and Tobio feels his head swimming again. He nods weakly, then follows Iwaizumi into practice like a shadow.

~

Kageyama's thighs grip the pillow tightly, and he shakes, finally finding the word for what fits in that shape – the thing Oikawa is blasting into his mind. It's love, and he found shades of it there, in that scene, caring patience and understanding, and when he comes, he's imagining the look on Iwaizumi's face, that warmth and fondness, in a very different context. 

The feeling pulses through his entire body, making his orgasm tingle pleasantly, and he's always been silent when he came in the past, but this time he finds his mouth opening, moaning softly as the feelings wash pleasantly over him. 

He's lying in a sort of daze, shivering, still wrapped around his pillow, sure he's never felt this good in his life – _maybe something good will happen_ – 

Until, like a lightswitch being flipped, the feeling is cut off.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IIIIINNNN Japan it's the decent thing to have a shower before sex, not showering before sex is seen as really unhygienic/gross. I wouldn't have included that element in this fic, except it really helped pace the scenes, SO. JUST A HEADS UP.
> 
> Also I AM SO SORRY, i didn't want to do this but this current chapter was reaching almost 19k and I knew I wasn't gonna be able to finish it tonight and it's already been so long since the last update DX This is almost ENTIRELY an Iwaizumi/Oikawa chapter!!! The second half that i am going to try to get up by Wednesday is all about kageyama in Miyagi. There's some kageyama stuff here but. u know. not the Good Stuff. which i really didn't want to do after that cliffhanger but glakdgglkd anyway. wish me luck for wednesday posting!! :P
> 
> also this starts out in the middle of the last chapter from Oikawa's POV.

"You're not gonna drop out, right?"

"Of course not."

"Two bonds in one week," Kazama laughs. "Busy boy, Oikawa."

Oikawa smiles back, as wide and shameless as possible. Thankfully, Yoshi says something stupid almost immediately, and the distraction means no one notices when Oikawa's smile drops.

There's nothing especially judgmental in Saotome or Kazama's faces, and they sound genuinely eager to have Oikawa back in the Tsukuba University gym, but he can tell they're watching, carefully. 

They're curious. 

They're wondering if Oikawa is the kind of omega who will become soft and pathetic after a bond, or skittish and timid after being hurt. 

Oikawa knew this would probably be one of the fall outs from bonding, regardless of how or when, but he'd always assumed it would be on his own terms. After a _traumatic bond_ , all he can do is scramble for damage control. In three years, Oikawa expects to be putting on The Tsukuba captain's jersey, but that won't happen if his teammates start seeing him as a victim, a helpless omega, and any show of weakness could do exactly that.

This is fine, because there's no weakness to show. 

Oikawa is not pathetic, soft or timid. He is not a victim.

He invited these people to dinner for the specific purpose of demonstrating that: Saotome and Kazama are both reliable, honest teammates and leaders, and Yoshi is a shameless gossip. Oikawa wants to control the story they'll end up reporting to the team, but he hadn't anticipated Iwaizumi's restlessly broiling frustration on his left, nor Kageyama's tremulous, rapidly growing fear to his right. Oikawa can feel his expression growing pinched as he's crushed between them, and forces himself to relax, smiling just a beat behind at a joke someone at the other end of the table made. 

He resents Iwaizumi for this. 

For everything, really: for cramming his distracting feelings inside Oikawa's head, for the two months of silence, the fight, the train, and everything that happened to him and Kageyama because of it, each uncomfortable moment, each pain, the entire sobbed, humiliating confession. 

Part of him thinks that's not fair, no one person could possibly make up for _all_ of that, and in fact Iwaizumi has already attempted to apologize. But feeling very vicious and mean, Oikawa thinks that he never promised to be fair. This is what Iwaizumi signed up for when he bit into Oikawa's neck, all of Oikawa, even Oikawa at his very worst, and he resolves to shove each bit of it down Iwaizumi's throat.

Kageyama's fear, a steady, constant pressure against his mind that he's bracing against, suddenly warps, to a sharp, piercing sort of misery, and stabs into Oikawa so cold and deep that he flinches.

He glances over, but Kageyama quickly looks away, embarrassed and overwhelmed, then stands.

"Excuse me," he mutters, voice tight.

Oikawa watches him go – feels Saotome and Kazama and Yoshi watching him – but Kageyama's hectic feelings grow much, much calmer as soon as the door slides shut. 

Oikawa relaxes slightly in relief. Kageyama wants to be alone. Fair enough.

"You okay?" Iwaizumi asks. He's looking down at Oikawa's drink instead of Oikawa's face. 

Oikawa glares, and brings his drink to his lips, forcing Iwaizumi's gaze to follow, then look away awkwardly. _Fucking coward._

"I'm good," he says.

He doesn't need to feel it, he can see Iwaizumi's disbelief in his face, but he's smart enough to leave it.

Yoshi is attempting to make eye contact, about to open his mouth to ask a question, probably about Kageyama, and how he's doing, and how Oikawa's doing, and so on. Oikawa quickly cuts him off, grabbing for the first distraction he sees –

"So, Mad-Dog Chan," he says loudly, resting his chin on his hand. "When exactly did you get your bond?" 

Kyotani is apparently too startled to be disagreeable. "Three days ago."

"Tell us about it." 

"About..?" Kyotani repeats, in that deep, severe voice, chin tucking down defensively in a way that reminds Oikawa of Kageyama. Yahaba watches in suspicion beside him.

"Mm, _all_ about it," Oikawa says. 

"Yeah, you guys are like – crazy young to be bonded," Watari – obviously sharing whatever Kunimi is drinking – says. "What's it like?"

Kyotani scowls, and it's not until he sees the mirrored annoyance on Yahaba's face, the protective way he leans closer to confront the others at the table, that it actually clicks for Oikawa, the two of them. It's interesting, he thinks – the inversion of Iwaizumi and himself. If Iwaizumi was an omega, if Oikawa was an alpha, maybe. If Iwaizumi's aggression was more defensive and scared, and Oikawa was more straight forward and assertive with his words, maybe. It's Yahaba that takes over as the tips of Kyotani's ears go pink.

"Oikawa-san, that's private – "

"It's like a dislocated joint."

There's a beat of silence. Yahaba looks horrified. "Wha – what?"

Kyotani clears his throat, looking enormously uncomfortable. "I haven't had one," he says, still muttering, and it makes the rest of the table lean in closer to hear. "But I saw, once, someone popping their shoulder back into place. It hurts, but there's relief after. When it's back where it belongs. So you're whole. It's like that."

 _A dislocated joint_. Oikawa could kiss Kyotani, it's about the least omegan thing he could've said, and it's obviously going over well with the Tsukuba players, who stare, looking impressed. 

"You're on the team, uh – " Saotome asks. "Mad Dog?"

"Kyotani," he says.

At the same time Yahaba nods, "Wing spiker."

"On the left??" Yoshi says. "Sheesh! You Miyagi omegas are something else!" 

Yahaba laughs politely along with the rest of them, but it's a little strained, and his arm stretches possessively over the back of Kyotani's seat, still worked up. 

Truthfully, Oikawa is beginning to find it difficult to follow the conversation. 

He had hoped Kageyama would keep growing calmer, but this is not the case. Oikawa is reminded of the phone call Kageyama made to his mother – that suffocating hopelessness, but far more intense. 

Well, this is definitely something he can't blame on Iwaizumi. Oikawa wanted to make an appearance, but he genuinely enjoys being social, and he couldn't feel safer than he does with his friends around him. 

But Kageyama is not Oikawa, the way he comforts himself is certainly nothing like the way Oikawa does, and these are not his friends. 

~

" _Tobio-kun_."

The assistant coach is losing his patience, and it's really no surprise. The tournament with Shiratorizawa Junior Academy is coming up, and they're pushing blocking at practices, doing everything they can to limit Ushijima's demon spikes. 

This is the second day of working on swing blocks with Kageyama, and practice is almost over. 

" _Slow down_. When you go that fast, you get too much momentum! You can't run into a swing block without running into the other blockers. Got it?!"

"Yes!" Kageyama nods, holding his hip from the last time he crashed into Kindaichi.

"Really? You understand?"

"Yes!"

"Okay. Let's try it again."

Kageyama does not understand. The assistant coach has tried to phrase this about ten different ways and it's obviously not clicking. Oikawa watches, unsurprised, as Kageyama overcorrects, going far too slow for a proper swing block, and the spiker slams the ball down over his head.

"A little faster than that," the assistant coach says, between clenched teeth.

"R-right," Kageyama says, clearly confused.

Again. The spiker jumps. Kindaichi steps, turns, jumps to block – wincing when Kageyama slams into him, yet again. 

" _Tobio!_ " The assistant coach stops, and forces himself to calm down. Kageyama is watching with anxious eyes, wilting inward. He's trying, clearly, trying to listen, but this, Oikawa supposes, is the downside of being a natural. When something _doesn't_ click, not a lot of coaching is going to help. "Let's pick this up tomorrow. Go practice your spikes."

Kageyama nods, shoulders still up as he runs off, obviously embarrassed by his performance. 

It's petty. Everyone struggles, of course, it's part of getting better, but the sight of _Tobio-kun's_ is enough to have Oikawa whistling and nearly skipping to the clubhouse at the end of practice. He's smiling all through classes the next day, especially helpful and kind to his classmates and teachers.

This good mood lasts until the end of day, when club activities begin, and he enters the gym to see Kageyama is still struggling, but it's not the assistant coach and Kindaichi working with him today.

"Let's count it. Alright?" Iwaizumi says. "One, two, three – "

Oikawa scowls, and turns around to focus on his own practice, but of course he keeps getting distracted. 

Kageyama is worse than ever. He's obviously more invested in performing well for Iwaizumi than he was for the assistant coach, and failing makes him even more flustered, leading to even more mistakes. After the fourth fall into his rear end, Iwaizumi suggests switching to receives. Miserably, Kageyama agrees.

This should make Oikawa happy, but Iwaizumi keeps working with him until the end of practice, obviously out of pity. 

Iwaizumi practices with the younger students all the time, but his focused attention on Kageyama always rubs Oikawa the wrong way. Maybe it's the silver volleyball charm that still dangles off Iwaizumi's bag, or the particular way that Iwaizumi speaks to all omegas, just a bit gentler, just a bit kinder, that he of course extends to Kageyama, as well. 

Oikawa is in a horribly jealous, scowly mood by the end of the day and isn't trying to hide it. He knows Iwaizumi won't have much patience for it, and is ready for all his angry attention when he meets him outside of the club house. 

Iwaizumi closes and locks the door, then turns around and glares at Oikawa.

"You're not the only one who wants to win."

Oikawa blinks in surprise. It's not the reprimand he was expecting. 

"Kageyama is good," Iwaizumi says. "If he's good, we're all good. I'm going to work with him until he gets swing blocks, and if you were smart, you'd stop being selfish and do the same. Shittykawa."

Oikawa frowns slightly, thumb under his messenger bag, watching Iwaizumi march off without waiting for him.

Oikawa walks slowly past the gym, and hears what he knows is Kageyama, still inside, the soft tap of the ball against the wall as he practices receives. 

Oikawa pauses in the doorway, watching. If asked, Oikawa would say it's because Iwaizumi is right. Kitagawa Daiichi needs the best blockers they can get in order to win the Junior High Athletics Meet. The coaches, apparently, don't know how to make this happen, neither does Iwaizumi, or anyone else, but Oikawa does. 

Oikawa can fix this, and if he does, Iwaizumi won't have to help him anymore. It's actually selfishness – extreme selfishness – that gets him dropping his messenger bag by the door. 

"Tobio-chan."

Kageyama looks up. 

"If you're going to run into a swing block," he says. "You have to _stop_."

Oikawa walks to the center of the net, and Kageyama watches, head tilted to the side. Oikawa doesn't hurry into swing blocks during games, not like Kageyama is trying. But he's seen it done, and he knows the problem isn't timing. Oikawa copies the speed Kageyama was using, and at the very end – _stomps_ his foot into the ground, planting it in place, then springs up, into a block. 

Kageyama's face clears, eyes growing wide.

"Got it?"

"Uhm – "

"Use your leg," he says, patting his own thigh, stomping again. "Plant it. Then jump. If you can't stop, then you can't go that fast. Fast, stop, jump. Got it?"

Oikawa knows Kageyama understood when he copies it, stomping his own leg experimentally. 

Oikawa nods and leaves the gym, waving over his shoulder at Kageyama's shouted _Thank you, Oikawa-san!!_

Monday comes, practice starts, and Kageyama only crashes into Kindaichi twice. 

"Whatever you're thinking about," Iwaizumi says, voice heavy with warning. "Stop it."

Oikawa looks quickly away from Kageyama's vastly improved practice, too confused by his reaction to it to play along. 

Well, it worked – Iwaizumi isn't practicing with him. And, honestly, it doesn't really mean much. Eventually, Kageyama would've figured out the swing block. But Oikawa knows, absolutely, that the coach never would've taught it to him. That no one here could – except Oikawa. Oikawa saw Kageyama's confusion and knew what words to say, for Kageyama in particular. That Kageyama had a problem, and _only_ Oikawa could solve it. 

It's a strange thing churning in his gut, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. If he wanted… If Oikawa wanted… he could. Certainly. It'd be easy, to just reach out and… take. If he wanted. Kageyama wouldn't even resist. He'd twist into whatever shape Oikawa wanted, happily.

Of course, Oikawa doesn't want this. He'd be happiest if Kageyama's parents moved to Timbuktu, if he turned out to be the long lost son of the Imperial Family, if he got discovered by some boy band and became an idol. Any of it, anything, as long as it got him away from Oikawa. 

But he _could_.

~

"Hey, you alright?"

Oikawa blinks open eyes he's only just realized he's squeezed shut, and sees the entire table watching. 

"Is it the bond?" Hanamiki asks.

Oikawa licks his lips, wanting to strangle Hanamiki. He's not sure how to play this. _Tobio-chan, poor, scared, little kohai?_ – it's a tempting narrative, a degree away from Oikawa, and the only thing he can think of.

"Well," he says, solemnly. "This hasn't exactly been easy for Tobio-chan."

"That's right, with an omega to omega bond you can both feel each other." 

"He's still in high school, right? First year?"

"Second," Kindaichi says. 

"Man," Saotome says. "Poor kid."

"Should someone go after him?"

Hanamiki is already getting to his feet. "I have to go to the bathroom anyway."

Oikawa keeps his expression impassive, humming to himself as he cuts into his steak, taking a bite that his overworked nerves turn to rubber on his tongue. He's not entirely surprised when Matsukawa, who is always hands on with any kind of problem and particularly _chivalrous_ when it comes to omegas, decides to follow after Hanamiki, and from there almost everyone's attention is on the door, and Oikawa can drop his fork with a sharp huff.

"How are you two going to handle this?" Kazama asks. 

Oikawa glances up, caught.

They're not close enough for that to be a polite question, but Kazama's staring Oikawa down, pointedly. He's not trying to be polite. It's the reason Oikawa invited him, Kazama is known for his candor. He wants Oikawa on the team, and wants to know how realistic that still is. He's being as nice as possible about it, too, waiting until everyone else was distracted, half of them out in the hallway, to ask. 

"He went to nationals last season, right?" Kazama asks. "And he's just gonna drop out?"

"No, he's not," Oikawa says, struggling to keep his tone light. This is _the_ conversation he's been waiting to have, but out in the hall, Kageyama is nearing a full on panic, and it takes all of Oikawa's self control to keep meeting Kazama's gaze. In the hospital room, all he had to do to calm that panic was stretch out his arm, but now he can't, Kageyama is out of reach, and his fingers flex around his knife. "But it's not like this is the first long distance bond in the world."

"No, but it's new, and – " Kazama shakes his head. "Our tournament season is starting up soon. We need you at practices. If you can't prioritize – "

"I don't think I've given you any reason to doubt that I'd prioritize our team."

Iwaizumi is frustrated by this discussion. He's tense all over, holding himself back from interjecting on Oikawa's behalf, which would be the absolute worst thing – Oikawa has to speak for himself. Part of him appreciates the wealth of Iwaizumi's annoyance, but another part wants to put his head down on the table and scream at the two extremes making a mess of his mind. 

Instead, he smiles as charmingly as he can at Kazama to ease any defensiveness or hostility in his tone.

It works, Kazama smiles back ruefully. "Ah, true. I guess I'm just worried. I'd really like to play a tournament with your tosses before I graduate."

"You and me both," Oikawa says, laughing lightly. "Ah, excuse me. It looks like I'll have to settle this."

He gets up as calmly as he can, but by the time he's at the door, he's reached his limit. When he runs straight into Kindaichi's back, he has to in the urge to just shove him to the side, to force his way through the wall of people blocking him from his – his what? His _mate_? He's not sure, but Kageyama is a shuddering, desperate presence in his mind, officially terrified, and Oikawa doesn't have patience for a wall of alphas standing between them. 

A shaking, desperate noise cuts through the group. Oikawa freezes, nearly seeing red, but Iwaizumi, directly behind him, hears it, too.

" _Hey_ ," Iwaizumi snaps, and the alphas freeze at his voice. "Back off, already!" 

It'd be impossible not to listen – even Yoshi, who has never met Iwaizumi before, quickly stands to the side, apologizing as he does.

Oikawa finally gets a good look at Kageyama when they clear the hall, and has to bite his tongue. 

Kageyama is not an expressive person. He'll show an emotion once it reaches a point of extreme, and Oikawa's seen Kageyama reach this point a few times the past few days, but – it's _gutting_ each time, the visual representation of what's happening behind his normally impassive features. His eyes are red from recent tears, his pupils pinpoints of fear, taking in sharp, shaking gasps for air. He's gripping the bottom of his shirt again, hands in tight fists. 

It seems to take him a second to focus on Oikawa, and when he does, he takes another breath in, wiping at the tears on his face. 

"I want to go home."

Oikawa steps forward instinctively – and feels Iwaizumi beside him, doing the same. _No_ , Oikawa thinks, eyes narrowed, batting Iwaizumi back. This is _Oikawa's_.

Iwaizumi looks like he might protest, but he must realize he really doesn't have a claim here, even if he wishes he did. He relents, and Oikawa sticks his tongue out before sliding the door shut in his face. 

He reaches Kageyama, and the way the boy's nerves start to settle and calm from his touch, after feeling them grow worse and worse all night, is satisfying beyond belief. He grips the front of Oikawa's shirt, like he's afraid of Oikawa stepping away, so he puts his hand on the back of his head, holding him closer.

Despite what just happened, Oikawa's immediate thought is to turn around and lead Kageyama back into the room with his team – and he realizes what he had, quite stupidly, been trying to do this evening. 

No one talks about packs anymore in any kind of seriousness, but Oikawa knows that's exactly what he sees his Aoba Johsai teammates as. Kageyama, now, as well. He was trying to integrate him in, make him a proper member, and now that he's hurting, take him to safety – but he couldn't have picked a worse time and place. 

Kageyama pulls at Oikawa's shirt again, redoubling his grasp, shaking. He needs to go home.

~

Running his thumb along the serrated edge of his knife, Oikawa nods along with the conversation, barely listening. 

Kageyama – presumably on a train with Kunimi – is feeling uncomfortable. Oikawa lets point of the knife dig just slightly under his fingernail, a warning pressure, about to turn into pain. He backs off and does it again, pressing slightly harder as Kageyama's stress increases. 

It's not fear, though. So nothing's wrong. He's just uncomfortable. All sorts of things make Kageyama uncomfortable. It could be an old lady trying to make conversation, or child staring too long. Or another teenager. Or an older man. He remembers the bonding counselor's blatant look up Kageyama's legs – 

"Ow," Oikawa says, pouting down at his finger, finally pressing hard enough to actually hurt. When he checks, though, there's no cut and no blood. 

Still, he pushes the knife away to keep himself from playing with it anymore, fiddling with his chopsticks instead. The worry is steady and unrelenting, and he can't focus on the conversation until finally, Kageyama is at home – relief and happiness spreads through both of them like warmth – and at almost comical speed, is asleep. 

Dinner winds down, and properly drunk Kindaichi makes a foolishly generous offer to pay for the entire table's meal, then obviously regrets it. The whole group toys around with him for ten minutes or so, watching him sweat, then splits the bill properly, and start saying their goodbyes. 

"The coach will be glad to hear you're ready to start playing," Kazama says, as one of the last ones to leave, and Oikawa grins and thanks him, sure Kazama's word will be enough to smooth over any sort of exaggerated nonsense Yoshi makes of that scene in the hall.

 _And then there was one_ , Oikawa thinks, looking over at Iwaizumi. 

"You coming?" Oikawa asks, then frowns in exaggerated thought. "Unless you need to catch that 60 minute train to Chou."

Iwaizumi clearly recognizes his own words from all those nights ago, his expression growing flat – interestingly, his presence in Oikawa's mind pulls back briefly, like a short, surprised inhale. Then it's back, frustrated.

"There's no way you're as angry at me as I am at myself."

"Don't count me out yet!" Oikawa laughs. He bows to the restaurant staff as they leave. "Thank you very much!"

This, of course, obligates Iwaizumi to do the same, and he echos Oikawa with an exasperated nod.

Living off campus is an allowance given to all omegas at Tsukuba University, including first years, and Oikawa's apartment is three blocks from east campus, where the volleyball team practices. It's an incredibly lucky set up, and he's bragged about it almost constantly to the rest of his team. 

He wants to brag again as his apartment comes into view – the size of it, the warm, romantic glow of the balconies all lit up, welcoming and impressive at once. He missed his apartment, he realizes. He's only lived here a few months, but he's become attached. He missed his balcony, his bed, his tiny kitchen, even the stray cats in the alley that scramble angrily away from any human contact. 

"How can your parents afford this place?" Iwaizumi asks, once they make it inside, looking around the lobby.

"The university has a deal with the building." 

There's more to it than that, and Oikawa would like to go on about how his father was able to get a discount on the lease because he knew the landlord's husband. He even got them to drop the key exchange and maintenance fee, and there's free internet, and a pool on the roof, and a spa on the floor below that, but anger keeps him silent. Silence is making Iwaizumi uncomfortable, which pleases Oikawa.

His apartment is on the seventh floor, and Oikawa takes his time at his door once they get there, humming as he slowly sorts through his keyring. Iwaizumi's impatience has finally started to overtake his discomfort by the time he gets the door open.

"Tooru," Iwaizumi says, reaching behind him to close the door, just a little harder than necessary. "I'm – "

"Apologize again," Oikawa says, turning on the lights, toeing off his shoes. His tone is pleasant, but it's clearly a dare. He'll cut Iwaizumi to pieces if he apologizes, yet again. What does Iwaizumi think apologies will fix? Certainly nothing so far. Nothing useful. He wants to say that to him, and worse. The words are hot on his tongue, and Iwaizumi is waiting – now's the time to do it, to say the worst of it, but – he finds himself freezing up, unsure of how to start. 

"Your blocks are sloppy," Iwaizumi says, breaking the silence. "And you're disrespectful to your mother."

Oikawa chokes in surprise, almost dropping his keys, looking over his shoulder. Iwaizumi didn't want to say that – he isn't happy about it, eyes tired as he meets Oikawa's surprised stare. Iwaizumi doesn't want to fight, but he can tell it's what Oikawa wants, and like any good friend, he's obliging. 

Oikawa laughs. "Who are you to call me – "

"The alpha who's been picking up your shit for the past 15 years." 

"The alpha I've been dragging around by the balls the past 15 years!" Oikawa snaps back. This is good. He's not ready for nice words, he wants something ugly and cruel. He's broiling with unanswered, vengeful fury, and has been for days. Where could he direct it? The alphas who deserve it are long gone. Kageyama, the only company he's had since this started, did nothing wrong. Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi is here, finally, and is the perfect target. Oikawa sneers, yanking off his jacket roughly. "Pathetic, just how desperate are you?"

Alphas have said this to Iwaizumi in the past, laughed that Iwaizumi talks a big game, but Oikawa obviously carries Iwaizumi's balls in his pocket. Iwaizumi had dismissed it easily then, and is unimpressed with it now. 

"Come on, Tooru."

"Your gym bag," Oikawa grinds out, hands clenching at his sides. "Smells like rotting potatoes."

"And you still need your mother to do your laundry."

Oikawa bites the inside of his cheek, furious. He can do his own laundry now, but saying so would just be proving Iwaizumi's point, that it was something he'd only recently learned. He laughs, mockingly. "Is this really the Iwa-chan who blew up my phone with apologies? Because you seem to be on an awfully high horse."

"It's not exactly hard to take the moral high ground when compared to you."

"Well – " Oikawa opens his mouth to say something about the dinner, about what Iwaizumi's selfishness and stupidity cost him – but that would make this more serious than he would like, and could possibly make Iwaizumi fold in regret. "You chew with your mouth open."

The fight continues, Oikawa pacing wildly, riding high on the crest of anger, while Iwaizumi stands, arms crossed, weathering it. Half of what he says is ridiculous, the other half hardly matters. It's having the chance to say it at all, to shout hateful things until his chest heaves. It's so satisfying that it doesn't even occur to Oikawa to wonder what will happen when the anger runs out, until it finally does.

"You – your spikes would be nothing without me!"

"Your serves are so reckless they lose just as many points as they score."

"You – left me." 

The anger in the room drops, completely. Neither of them expected that, the words or the hurt in Oikawa's voice, and they stare at one another in surprise. 

"You left me waiting," Oikawa keeps going, into the perfectly quiet silence. "You knew – we both knew... but you… " 

Disappointingly, this doesn't sound as wrathful and victorious as Oikawa imagined it would. It sounds weak, hurt and confused. The question of a child. 

_Iwaizumi left him._

"You let me – squirm. For months..."

A fight would've been better than the look on Iwaizumi's face. He looks to the ground, lips twisting into furious scowl. 

"I… I didn't trust you. And I didn't trust myself. I was scared."

He waits, but Iwaizumi doesn't elaborate further, and Oikawa has to turn away, feeling his face morph again, wonky and twisted in emotion. "Fuck you," he laughs wetly. 

Iwaizumi just nods, biting on his lip.

"L-look what happened! What they – " Oikawa can't say it. " _Did_."

"I know."

"You cuh – " Oikawa has to gasp for air, wiping at the tears on his face. "You fucking coward." 

Iwaizumi inhales sharply, closing his eyes tight as though bracing from a slap. "Yeah."

"You made me – you really made me feel like shit. And I want to say if you ignore me like that again, that I won't take it, that I'll leave, but." Oikawa laughs a little, jerky with poorly suppressed emotion. "You could do it all over again. You could even do it worse. You – you could do – whatever. You could do _whatever_ to me – and I'll just _take it_!"

"I never wanted – "

"Shut up!" Oikawa shouts, tears falling now. "I'm always going to come crawling back! Alright?! I'll always take it! So fucking – don't fucking do this again!" 

" _Tooru_ ," Iwaizumi's voice cracks. "I'm sorry."

Oikawa shakes his head, eyes shut tight as tears slide down his face. He doesn't see Iwaizumi approach, if he did, he'd probably push him away, but as it is, Iwaizumi already has him pulled close, arms strong and firm around him. He tenses, then gives in with an angry, frustrated sob, hiding his face against Iwaizumi's shoulder. "Fuck you."

~

"Iwaizumi-san?" 

It's only his second month at Chou, and Iwaizumi already knows the nervous, tentative voice of the beta who shares a dorm with Eto Yuto. 

Eto is Chou University's single omega volleyball player. A pitch server. There were originally two omegas on the roster, but the back up libero ended up bonding with an alpha between terms, and dropping out. 

"It's Eto," the beta says, of course. "He's gone again."

Iwaizumi sighs, hard, throwing his blanket off and rolling out of bed. 

"Thanks," Iwaizumi says, and the beta nods, scurrying back to the shared omega/beta dorms before he gets caught past curfew. 

Iwaizumi pulls on his jeans, glaring as he does, glaring harder as he yanks on his jacket. 

He doesn't like clubs. Too much noise, too much alcohol, too many alphas, and all of that adds up to too many fights. 

His teammates love them, though. Iwaizumi is a strong player, but not a genius, and he's back to being a first year. While jokes have already started about him being a big brother of the first years, no one really relies on him. He's not essential to the team, still trying to carve a spot for himself. He knows he can find success at Chou, but it's something that will take a steady, concentrated effort, he can't afford to slip, and he can't afford to ditch any kind of team bonding. It means a lot of Friday and Saturday nights at clubs. 

While Eto does his best to spend _every_ night there. 

Iwaizumi's lost track of how many times Eto's attempted to sneak out on a school night with varying members of the team, and it's somehow become Iwaizumi's default responsibility to drag him back to school.

It's frustrating, but Iwaizumi's always had a soft spot for omegas, and Eto has an almost uncanny resemblance to Kunimi, which makes it difficult for Iwaizumi to turn his back on him, and has the outrageously flirtatious temperament of Oikawa at about fourteen years old, which makes it impossible. It's Eto's first time away from home, ever. He came from an extremely strict, traditional household – even asked the coach if he'd require an alpha chaperone around campus – and Iwaizumi is still hoping this is something Eto will get out of his system before he gets kicked off the team, losing his scholarship, and sending him back to the small prefecture he came from. 

He's cursing Eto under his breath as he walks to the nearest club, though, not feeling especially generous or kind. The bouncer takes one look at Iwaizumi's very dark expression and almost turns him away.

"I'm here to take a friend home," Iwaizumi says, trying his best to sound civil, and the bouncer gives him a long look. He must eventually recognize Iwaizumi, he comes here often enough anyway, and finally nods, letting him in. 

Eto's not on the dance floor, and he's not at the bar. He's not in the back with the smokers, and it's on his way back from there that Iwaizumi finally spots the top of Eto's smooth head in one of the booths. 

He's sitting with an alpha, and the alpha has his mouth – on Eto's neck.

"Fuck – " Iwaizumi hurries forward, grabs Eto's shirt to yank him back – 

But it's too late. 

The alpha struggles to stand, ready to take on Iwaizumi's challenge, but Iwaizumi just stares at the mark spreading across Eto's neck. Small town omega, bonded in the back of a dance club, his first month away from home. It's so cliché it sounds like a joke, and Iwaizumi is furious with Eto for putting himself in this position, furious about how obliviously Eto tells the rest of the team, like this is something good, furious with the rest of the team's badly suppressed amusement. 

"It's the season, you know," one of his beta teammates says, shaking his head. "When you learn which omegas are serious about graduating and which ones are just trying to get an alpha that went to college."

"Yeah, I'm not biting any omega's neck until my last year here," says one of the alphas, firmly. "It's a mess, they get so – _needy_."

"Try the other way around," says their beta libero. "Alphas get all freaked out and possessive. It messes with their head, and then it messes with their omega's head. But yeah. Definitely the smart thing to wait until after you graduate."

"Ugh, it's gonna suck without Eto though," says another. "His drive serve is killer…"

"Stop talking like he quit the team," Iwaizumi says.

Everyone in the locker room looks up in surprise, and Iwaizumi realizes he was probably a little more forceful than necessary, but it's their own fault for the bothersome conversation.

"Well. We'll see how long it lasts," says one of them, under his breath.

Iwaizumi is annoyed by the conversation, but it's not like they're questions he hasn't asked himself back in high school, trying to come up with reasons why the number of omegas in their classes drop, why devoted students are suddenly barely concerned with graduation at all. 

Not all omegas are the same, though. Iwaizumi knows it, and he knows Oikawa. He doesn't know Eto, really, but he hopes… 

But not even he's surprised, by the end of the third week bonded, when he finds Eto packing up his locker. 

"It's just hard," Eto says, packing away his still clean sneakers. "With all these alphas around? Being close to all of you… it was hard before, but now that I have a mate… and you're all so – smelly? Not to be rude."

Iwaizumi shakes his head, shrugging. He's heard an omega's already sensitive senses can grow even stronger after bonding, some getting so attached to their mates scent that other potent alphas can make them nauseous... but you hear a lot of things about omegas. 

"I still love volleyball," Eto says, fiddling with the strap of his gym bag. "So I'll definitely be watching you play!"

"Sure," Iwaizumi says.

Eto nods shortly, obviously uncomfortable, and leaves.

It's a Friday, so of course the team is going out to a club again. Iwaizumi is in no mood, but starts getting ready when he makes it to his dorm after practice.

His phone goes off, and Iwaizumi's dormmate perks up. 

Iwaizumi glares, waiting. He made the mistake of showing Oikawa's picture to his dormmate when she asked, and now the alpha is endlessly curious about every text Iwaizumi gets, finding it very funny to ask if Oikawa has any omega brothers or sisters.

"Is that your Oikawa?" she asks, suggestively.

"Probably," Iwaizumi says, but pockets it without checking. 

He doesn't know what will happen when he bonds with Oikawa. If it will change him, or Oikawa, or everything, or nothing at all. 

But he knows what Oikawa wants – he knows how much Oikawa wants – how he wants _everything_ , and how it's within arm's reach.

His phone buzzes. Probably Oikawa again – probably some random, offhand thing, but Iwaizumi knows it's actually a question, one he doesn't know the answer to, yet. 

~

"Andromeda," Oikawa says, pointing. 

When they were younger, Oikawa would point out constellations, then get annoyed when Iwaizumi was unable to repeat them back, accusing him of not paying attention, so he's not surprised by Oikawa's already annoyed challenge. "What's that one?"

"Mmm," Iwaizumi looks up. He can't even tell which one Oikawa's pointing toward. "Little Dipper."

"God. Iwa-chan sucks," Oikawa sighs. "It's Capricornus. Capricorn."

Oikawa's apartment is smallish, but it has a decently sized deck, and the sight makes Iwaizumi happy. It's exactly the sort of thing Oikawa should have, and the futon pushed out there is even better. It's a nice mental image: Oikawa sitting out here after his classes and practice, doing homework, taking breaks to mess around on his phone, snacking, dozing, as close to the stars as he can manage. 

They sit in the late autumn air, a thin blanket around their shoulders, Oikawa leaning heavily against Iwaizumi, looking up at the stars. He knows his own feelings are being broadcast into Oikawa's head now, but Oikawa is just as much of a mystery as he ever was. He's heard, with enough time and practice, that alphas can start sensing their omega mate's feelings as well, but at the moment the only thing that's changed is physical wants: touching, smelling, hearing, all seem far more important that before, even the rise and fall of Oikawa's chest while they were arguing was a suddenly profound and fascinating thing. His _mate_.

He feels an adolescent excitement at Oikawa's familiar smell and weight, though, and the soft curl of his hair brushing against Iwaizumi's cheek. This is a valuable thing, his gut is saying. Keep this safe, you almost lost it, don't fuck up again. 

"Tobio-chan's blood type is AB," Oikawa says, a bit abruptly.

"Oh," Iwaizumi says, unable to follow that. "Okay."

"Typical, right?" 

"If you believe any of that, I guess," Iwaizumi says. "What's it like? Having both of us in there?"

"Distracting," Oikawa says. "He's asleep right now, though. Happy to be home."

Iwaizumi grunts, glad to hear it. "How – uh. Is he? In general?"

"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, slowly, pointing at one of the stars, apparently to indicate Kageyama. "Was in the perfect spot to do what he wants with his life." 

He drops his hand back into his lap with a bit of a dramatic arch – the Kageyama star falling to the earth. 

Iwaizumi wants to argue, but he knows it's just a childish, baseless want to hear that everything is fine. That Kageyama is fine, and happy, and nothing bad will touch him again.

"Iwa-chan shouldn't ask questions if he doesn't want to hear the answers," Oikawa sing-songs. 

"He's not weak," Iwaizumi says.

"Mmhm. And he has lots of good friends now, too," Oikawa says agreeably, but this is clearly just to make Iwaizumi feel better, as he starts playing with Iwaizumi's hand. Iwaizumi looks down at his own thicker palm, held between Oikawa's slender fingers, running his thumb along the lines there. 

"Tooru," Iwaizumi says, looking up from their hands to face him, straight on. 

"Hm?"

Iwaizumi feels like putting his hand on the side of Oikawa's neck, sliding into his hair, was enough of a warning, but Oikawa continues to look patiently, obliviously curious, not cottoning on until Iwaizumi is pressing his lips against his, kissing him. 

It takes Oikawa a moment to remember to breathe, and Iwazumi feels it in a hot rush against his lips once he does, then Oikawa is shifting toward him, his hand resting on Iwaizumi's wrist, the other gripping the center of his shirt, flustered, but obviously wanting and he tilts his head to the side, immediately deepening it. 

They break the kiss and stare at one another, panting heavily, then Oikawa licks his bottom lip and Iwaizumi surges forward again. 

He's imagined doing this, countless scenarios, countless ways, countless outcomes, and each fantasy is pale, bland, and forgettable in comparison to reality, Iwaizumi's excitement picking up with the rate of his heart, Oikawa – Oikawa – he moans again against Iwaizumi's mouth, his skin is warm beneath the fabric of his shirt, riding up slightly, enough for Iwaizumi's fingers to rest on the skin there, then greedily seek out more, more flesh and more of the kiss – 

"Fuck," Oikawa pants out, hot against Iwaizumi's mouth.

"Love you," Iwaizumi says. "I love you, Tooru."

"Fuck," Oikawa says again, voice pinched up. "I want – "

"What? What do you want?" Iwaizumi asks, the compulsive urge to give it to him, anything he wants – everything he wants – a physical thing, literally making his fingers flex.

"But it's too cold," Oikawa says, pouting, looking back up at the stars.

"You want to – _out here_?"

"Not tonight," he admits reluctantly. "One day, though."

"Yeah," Iwaizumi agrees. "You fucking deviant." 

"But you love me," Oikawa reminds him, looking so smug about it, Iwaizumi kisses him again, with a bit of teeth.

Iwaizumi has craved vague closeness with Oikawa for what feels like forever, but he's known how to direct it, exactly what he wants to do with him, for years, and he nearly shakes with anticipation as Oikawa stands up, takes him by the hand, and leads him inside, to his bed.

He looks toward the bathroom as they pass – Iwaizumi's has never been particular, but he's sure Oikawa would prefer to shower. He doesn't stop, though.

It feels – fast, it feels off, but Oikawa is nothing but sure, utter calm. This is Oikawa's energy as a captain, when he will not tolerate being questioned. He pushes Iwaizumi back onto the bed, and Iwaizumi falls back willingly, the blankets rich and heavy with Oikawa's tempting scent, distracting from any concerns – it's another pleasing mental image, Oikawa curling up under the blankets, sleeping, even the idea of his bare skin touching the sheets is somehow erotic, but nothing compared to Oikawa's heat and weight as he follows, straddling Iwaizumi's lap. 

He makes a show of settling in, his thighs stretching wide as he does, and Iwaizumi bites on his lip, his fingers sliding into Oikawa's pockets, between the belt loops of his jeans. He wants them off.

"Does Iwa-chan want to touch me?"

Iwaizumi inhales sharply but says nothing, looking between Oikawa's eyes and the promising little dance his fingers are doing on the buttons of his shirt. 

"Does Iwa-chan want to fuck me?"

Iwaizumi bites his cheek to keep from digging his fingers any harder into Oikawa's hips. A sound he doesn't really mean to make escapes him, a deep, rumbling noise that makes Oikawa grin.

"I've thought about it," Oikawa says, almost absentmindedly as he undoes the buttons, one at a time. "A lot."

Iwaizumi swallows. He hadn't really – thought about Oikawa thinking about it. The idea sends heat straight to his crotch.

"Thought about how good it would feel... Thought about how big you are… " 

Oikawa's clever hand is suddenly there, between Iwaizumi's legs, flexing around his slowly thickening dick, and Iwaizumi nearly chokes.

"Fuck," Iwaizumi grits out between his teeth. "Are you _trying_ to get me to come?"

Oikawa stops, and gives a guilty little grin. 

Iwaizumi feels an abrupt, terrified chill. 

He reaches down to grip Oikawa's hand, stopping him short. 

"You know – we don't have to do anything. You know that, right?"

"Of course," Oikawa says, immediately annoyed, yanking his hand free. The smooth, detached seductiveness is suddenly embarrassingly transparent, and Iwaizumi feels like a fool. "I'm not _broken_ ," Oikawa snaps, disgusted at the feel of Iwaizumi's concern. "It wasn't even that _bad_."

"Tooru – "

"I want to see you come," Oikawa says, angrily. "Alright? Fair's fair, right?"

"What?"

"You saw me," he says. "So."

Iwaizumi shakes his head, lost. When would he have seen… ?

They stiffen at the same moment, Iwaizumi remembering the pictures on his phone, and Oikawa realizing that Iwaizumi is not lying, isn't pretending, and had no idea what he was talking about.

"I only saw at the first three pictures they sent," Iwaizumi says, quickly, sliding his fingers between Oikawa's and holding his hand tightly, as though scared he's about to vanish. "As soon as I realized what they were, I stopped. I didn't look through them."

"The first three," Oikawa repeats, a little distantly. 

Iwaizumi nods.

"Which ones were the first three?" he asks, voice very quiet.

"… The first one, you… looked upset," Iwaizumi says, slowly, ready to stop at the first sign of horror or hurt in Oikawa's face, but Oikawa is only watching, eyes almost hungry, more intense than Iwaizumi's ever seen. "You were hiding your face, I – didn't know what was going on. The second one… you were crying, they were forcing your head up. The third one was a second later, they were." This time Iwaizumi pauses for himself, trying to hold back the rage. "They were touching you."

Oikawa processes that, blinking slowly, then nods, eyes growing distant. 

Iwaizumi has seen Oikawa at his absolute worst, red-faced, tear streaked, gnashing teeth rage. But this is something new, something horrifying, something Oikawa never, _ever_ is – distant and quiet and – fragile like the thin, translucent line of a spider's web, something even a breeze would hopelessly destroy. 

The hate and anger for the alphas that put this on Oikawa's face comes again, makes it hard to even breathe for a moment, but Iwaizumi forces it down. 

He knows he's rougher than he needs to be when he grips either side of Oikawa's face, bringing them close together, forehead to forehead, he's just – he's desperate to keep Oikawa here, look in his eyes and know he's there, with him, not lose him to wherever he's going in his own head. 

Oikawa blinks, then forces a tiny, broken smile on his face, grabbing Iwaizumi's hand, gripping so hard his nails dig in.

"It was – bad," Oikawa says, quiet again, like he's admitting a secret. Like he's admitting it to himself. "It was really bad."

He drops his head down, against Iwaizumi's chest. If he's crying, it's silent, but either way, it's fine. It's fine, Oikawa can hide there as long as he likes, Iwaizumi can hold him there, make sure nothing – no one – hurts him again. It is hard to keep his attention focused on Oikawa and not on anger, simply because that's the easier thing. It's easier to be angry than it is to hurt, and he supposes that's why it took Oikawa so long to admit it was – bad.

Oikawa takes a shuddering breath, then presses harder into Iwaizumi's chest, and he feels the tears. 

"Fuck," Iwaizumi says, feeling useless. He presses his cheek against the top of Oikawa's head and stares out the balcony. Holds him tighter, because it's all he can do. 

"I could've left," Oikawa says, turning his head to the side, wiping at his face. "I wah-was, ah. I was about to leave, to find you."

"Why didn't you?"

Oikawa snickers, it sounds wet and sad. "I thought they were going to pick on little Tobio-chan." 

Iwaizumi closes his eyes tighter, then looks down, tilting Oikawa's face up. Oikawa allows it, and he doesn't look like that pale, distant thing anymore. There's pain on his face, but it's strong, and present, and it's a relief in comparison. 

Oikawa seems to know what he's thinking – of course he does – and smiles a little, grabbing Iwaizumi's hand on the side of his face, turning it to give his palm a biting little kiss.

"I'm not saying – " Iwaizumi regrets this as soon as it's out of his mouth, but he can't think of any other way to end the sentence so he keeps going. "Any of this is good, but. I'm impressed that you tried."

He didn't need to worry – Oikawa snorts in agreement. " _Good_. You should be."

Iwaizumi grins sadly. Oikawa is impressive. In a lot of ways. It's annoying to admit, because Oikawa is always so keenly aware of it, but Iwaizumi feels hopelessly proud of it now, close to awe. 

"I wish it had a better payoff."

"If nothing had happened," Oikawa looks suddenly thoughtful. "If they hadn't done anything, I just would've been annoyed with Tobio-chan for wasting my night. And then... tried not to think about him again until he started applying for colleges. Not much of a payoff, either."

It actually sounds a bit melancholy, which is surprising, but Iwaizumi is still going to tread as carefully as possible on that minefield. 

"I suppose."

There's about ten million ways this could've been even worse, Iwaizumi wants to say. He's spent the last four days thinking about all of them, but it feels unfair to tell Oikawa that. He's just… thankful that regardless of the hurdles, and the mistakes, they ended up together, that Kageyama is whole, and sleeping safely in his own bed in Miyagi.

It's all he would ever ask for.

~

"He's not in the captain's jersey." 

"Naturally," Oikawa says. He's beaming, a wide, giddy smile on his face.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. Rumors of Kageyama being called _King of the Court_ had started during the fall games. It's spring now, the last games the junior high schoolers will have this season, and as future captain and vice captain of Aoba Johsai, Oikawa and Iwaizumi made the trip to the Junior Athletics Meet, to see their future kohais play. 

Iwaizumi had assumed Kageyama would be the captain by now – liked the idea quite a bit, the second omega to play as a regular on Kitagawa Daiichi and the second omega captain, following the trail Oikawa blazed – and the _king_ rumor seemed to cement that. It had made Oikawa truly unbearable the past few weeks, grouchy and pouting, whining non-stop about why he never got a cool nickname. 

Of course he's all confidence now, fingers tapping happily on the banister as Kitagawa Daiichi plays. "Who is captain? Who is that, Hashikami-kun?"

"He's a steady player," Iwaizumi says.

"Which is a nice way of saying forgettable," Oikawa says. "Mmm, no way captain Hashikami has Tobio-chan as his vice captain. It has to be... Oritsume… " his voice trails off in thought. 

They're both wondering the same thing. Why _king?_ What makes Kageyama king?

Kageyama tosses, quick – surprisingly quick, and Kindaichi can't match it. He must be panicking. Iwaizumi's seen Kageyama mess up in games and practices, internalizing it furiously before apologizing, and this is what he's expecting. 

Neither he or Oikawa are prepared for the outburst when Kageyama turns on Kindaichi, angrily. Iwaizumi's not sure what Kageyama is yelling, but he hears _try_ and _faster_ , and sees his face twisted unrecognizably in disgust.

"He's blaming _that_ toss on _Kindaichi_?" Oikawa says, incredulous. His fingers have stopped their happy little tapping, limp in surprise. 

Iwaizumi says nothing, glancing over at the coach, waiting for a time out, waiting for a player swap… But no. He must be used to scenes like this, because Coach Yoshino just watches, arms crossed, waiting it out. Captain Hashikami, too, does nothing. They start playing again, and this time Iwaizumi watches the expressions on Kindaichi and Kunimi's faces. The three of them were friends, Iwaizumi's fairly sure, drifting close together whenever they had the chance.

There's anger, now, in their faces. Frustration and stress. Not concern, because apparently, this is normal behavior.

"I knew it was an act," Oikawa says. "That whole innocent, _'teach me, senpai!'_ thing."

Iwaizumi looks over. That seems unlikely to him, but truly, Oikawa has always been good at reading people. Did he really see this…? "Really?"

"Well," Oikawa says, and shrugs a shoulder. 

That's a no, then. Iwaizumi goes back to the game. Chidoriyama is closing the gap, getting closer. But Kitagawa Daiichi is still ahead, the win is still comfortably in their grasp. The rally is coming to an end – the ball reaching the setter, Kageyama tosses – 

They watch in silence as Kindaichi takes pointed, deliberate a step back.

This is obviously something the team has discussed, because none of them seem surprised. The rest of the wing spikers follow suit, and the ball falls to the floor. 

Kageyama stares over his shoulder, confused, then finally turns around. Takes stock of the situation. 

Kitagawa Daiichi is the favorite to win the meet. It's the first time in years, and Iwaizumi had been dreading this, the brat Oikawa would turn into if Kageyama won where he had lost.

Kageyama stares in open shock at his glaring, rebelling team, and it doesn't look like that's something he'll have to worry about. Oikawa is clearly thinking the same, smile back on his face.

"You know he's probably coming to Aoba Johsai," Iwaizumi says, wanting to wipe it off. "All three of them."

"Naturally," Oikawa says again, still smiling. He steps away from the railing, and thankfully leaves it at that, apparently not feeling the need to gloat. Iwaizumi gives one more look at the game.

Kageyama has been benched – too little, too late – his shoulders hitched up, hands on his knees. His body looks particularly young, arms long and thin, legs coltish. Why isn't the coach talking to him? Iwaizumi glares at the man, who keeps watching the game. Why aren't any of his teammates…? The manager, even?

There's a towel over his head, masking Kageyama's face. Iwaizumi would like to imagine he knows the expression he's making, but maybe not. Maybe it's too intimidating, too unwelcoming to approach… _king of the court_.

In any case, Iwaizumi decides, he'll be ready for him at Aoba Johsai. They'll fix this, he's sure. He can fix this. 

But Kageyama doesn't go to Aoba Johsai, and he fixes it without any help from Iwaizumi. 

He'd be proud, if he had any right.

~

Oikawa is close to a lot of people, but Iwaizumi knows he wouldn't have let himself go like that or be that vulnerable with anyone else – not Matsukawa, or Takahiro, or even his sisters. Iwaizumi and Oikawa have spent years learning each other, working together, fighting and making up, seeing each other at their best and worst, to get to the point where he could. 

Does Kageyama have anyone like that? Karasuno seems like an open group, but this is a pretty delicate thing, and Kageyama is a pretty private person. All the alphas he's met from Karasuno seem too explosive. There's that setter, Sugawara, but are they actually close enough… ? His mother, maybe.

But these are pointless questions to ask, because, as Iwaizumi decided years ago, he's not close enough with Kageyama to say, and maybe he never really knew him at all.

He can't forget that sound Kageyama made, though, that terrified whine at the restaurant. A call for help that pierced through all Iwaizumi's higher thought, tapping into his instincts like an exposed nerve. He can still feel the useless rush of adrenaline from the noise. Did he cry out like that on the train? Was it ignored? Iwaizumi swallows down the anger at the thought. He's safe now, he's home now, he has a whole team of people who are probably far more concerned that Iwaizumi is.

The shower switching off in the other room gets Iwaizumi's attention, and he shakes off the thought, sitting upright from Oikawa's bed, waiting, watching the door. 

From his boldness earlier, Iwaizumi imagines, briefly, Oikawa stepping out of the washroom already naked, skin wet and warm from the shower, and his face heats – 

But Oikawa comes out in wearing a pair of pajamas bottoms, his pale shoulders and back bright pink from the heat of the shower. He looks up and grins wickedly.

"What was Iwa-chan thinking about?" he teases. "You were so optimistic until I opened the door."

Shit. Iwaizumi frowns darkly. "This is going to be troublesome."

"I thought I was already troublesome."

"You were," Iwaizumi says. "And now you're even more troublesome." 

"Not too troublesome for you to lay on my bed," Oikawa says. 

"Of course not," Iwaizumi says. Oikawa's approaching, and again, from earlier, Iwaizumi is half expecting him to slide up onto his lap – but he only settles sides down beside him. Oikawa starts picking at the bedspread almost immediately, and his cheeks are flushing a bit.

Throughout his junior and high school career, Oikawa has had one boyfriend and three girlfriends. All betas and omegas, and the first one had sent Iwaizumi into an insecure, jealous spiral, until he realized what it was Oikawa wanted – extra special presents to exchange on birthdays and holidays, walks during festival activities, texts back and forth after every class, and someone to put them at the center of dramatic gossip. 

Iwaizumi wasn't interested in any of those things, wasn't for years, and never felt the need to seek them out. 

So, neither of them have had sex. As far as he knows, what happened on the balcony was the first kiss for both of them. 

Of course now that Oikawa's not rushing through it like some sort of kamakazi mission he's nervous, and the sight of Oikawa carefully picking any piece of lint off his duvet as the tips of his ears turn rose pink is adorable. It also makes what happened earlier feel like a narrowly dodged bullet. If he'd let Oikawa keep going – if they'd actually had sex while he was pretending, hurting – the thought has Iwaizumi reaching out again, clasping Oikawa's picking hand in his. 

Oikawa looks down at their hands, then up at Iwaizumi's face.

"I might change my mind," Oikawa says suddenly, sternly.

"Well – I might, too," Iwaizumi says quickly. That's a lie. There's no way he's going to change his mind. 

Oikawa apparently knows it, and laughs, then nips at Iwaizumi's nose. "You're adorable, Hajime."

That is something Iwaizumi hadn't even really thought about, at all, and he's surprised at how pleasing it is to hear. Exciting, even. _Hajime_. Oikawa can tell immediately, smiling again. 

They kiss, and it's the same easy, addictive feeling from the balcony, real and just slightly awkward, learning each other in this new way. It sets Iwaizumi at ease, but he's still careful about it, hyper aware of his own building arousal as he presses their bodies together – waiting, on edge, for any sign of discomfort.

"Take off your clothes."

Iwaizumi blinks, and pulls back. 

Oikawa is watching him with _intent_. He can't actually place what it is, it's not the half-lidded, sexual stare he's seen in fiction. But there is interest there, new interest, it's hypnotic enough that Iwaizumi would do just about anything he asked.

He climbs off the bed, pulls off his shirt, and rests his hands under the waist of his pants.

If he had simply done it, gotten it over with, it would've been nothing, but he made the mistake of hesitating, and looking up at Oikawa as he did.

Oikawa is watching, a small, almost innocent smile on his face, like he's waiting for a treat. 

He raises his eyebrows expectantly, and Iwaizumi sighs and undoes his belt, pulls down his jeans and underwear in one go. 

Oikawa's smile dims, expression growing more serious, and the reaction is enough to make Iwaizumi's stomach tighten in arousal, already thickening cock growing just that harder.

He huffs out once, stepping back onto the bed, up onto his knees, and Oikawa immediately reaches out for his dick, like greeting a new friend.

"Honestly," Oikawa says, slowly, eyes half lidded as he pets with both hands greedily, curiously. "I've thought about topping a lot."

Iwaizumi blinks in surprise, mentally flailing as he tries to switch gears – some alphas refuse to bottom on principal, but Iwaizumi can honestly say there's nothing he wouldn't be willing to try as long as it involved Oikawa, and after everything… it might be exactly what he needs.

"But – I mean, I wasn't lying before," Oikawa says, still stroking him. "I've spent a _lot_ of time thinking about this."

"Tooru," Iwaizumi hisses out a warning, cock twitching at his tone. 

"It's true," Oikawa says, sounding a bit annoyed. Possibly at himself. "You're the only alpha, the only… anyone. That makes it make sense that I'm an omega."

Iwaizumi doesn't want to disagree, because he can certainly see why Oikawa is saying it. Alphas that are too dumb or naive will assume they have the lead while Oikawa easily pulls them along, but there's no doubt who has the reigns. It's definitely alpha-esque, but, truly, there's no a part of Oikawa that's suited to be an alpha. He's omegan perfection, practically sculpted, idealized, his lashes and the tips of his fingers, the way he walks – everything. 

But he does deserve the best. Iwaizumi is filled with the sort of ambitious, victorious passion he usually feels on a volleyball court. He's earned this, he's been preforming for Oikawa for years, and Oikawa has picked him. He is the best. He's the one Oikawa will submit to, the _only_ one, and he's not going to fuck it up anymore.

"I want to do," Iwaizumi says, pushing Oikawa onto his back, firm but gentle. "So much to you." 

"List them," Oikawa says. "All of them. Everything."

"That – " Iwaizumi sputters. "Every – every thing I've ever thought about. It's always you." It's no exaggeration. Everything – every sexual urge, every random sexual thought, was immediately associated with Oikawa – even things like experimenting with another alpha, maybe, was quickly more about sharing Oikawa between them, or imagining what Oikawa would be like if he'd been born an alpha. "I want to – kiss you after you come. Fuck, I want to make you come," he says, closing his eyes tight before opening them again. "I want to fuck you so good you're yelling my name."

Oikawa is grinning and trying to hide it. 

"Keep going."

"God. You're so fucking spoiled," Iwaizumi says. Then, reluctantly, because it's taken him years to admit it to himself and it's like pulling to teeth to say it out loud, "I want to spoil you." 

Oikawa's smile is gorgeous, and better than he could've imagined.

"O.K."

"Okay?"

"You have my permission," Oikawa says. "Spoil me."

Iwaizumi lifts his fist and bops it, gently, against Oikawa's forehead. Oikawa grabs it, bringing it down to his mouth, where he begins to shamelessly lick Iwaizumi's fingers, looking him dead in the eye as he does, until Iwaizumi pulls his hand free, and leans down for another kiss, intense and wanting this time.

"I want to spoil you, too," Oikawa pants out when he can, hitching his legs up, around Iwaizumi's waist, opening the way to his most interesting bits, the parts that are still covered by his own thin pajama pants. Iwaizumi presses down into it, firmly, feeling the shape and heat of his crotch, his dick, and the wetness behind that. He's getting wet. Iwaizumi has to brace himself for a moment against this knowledge, gripping the sheets beneath his hand tightly. 

"God, you're big," Oikawa says, as Iwaizumi thrusts down again, rutting against him. "I thought I saw it before, during camp – I didn't think it was this big."

"Your fucking mouth, Tooru," Iwaizumi hisses out, still gripping the bedsheet. 

"What about it?"

"Is _troublesome_ ," he says. If Oikawa keeps talking like this, saying things like that, Iwaizumi is almost certainly going to come before they can do anything. 

As if reading his mind, Oikawa starts humming to himself, running his hands along Iwaizumi's arms, scratching lightly on the back of his biceps, seeming pleased. "You're filling out, you know. Did you notice?" he says, conversationally. "Your shoulders, too. I bet you've already outgrown your Seijoh jersey."

He's just going to have to shut up him, then. He moves his hand down Oikawa's side, to the elastic top of his pants. They're obviously well worn and comfortable, probably with enough stretch for him to yank it down his legs without much effort.

He raises an eyebrow in question, sliding his hand beneath. Oikawa nods, and he's right. Two pulls at the fabric and they're gone, dangling off the side of the bed.

Oikawa swallows, nervous again, blush traveling down his chest, and Iwaizumi quickly lies back on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, his hand traveling down Oikawa's stomach, gripping this part of Oikawa he's never seen before, not like this. It's a pleasing size, and Iwaizumi watches it grow harder against his palm as he strokes it, starts rutting against Oikawa's hip again once he starts leaking a bit at the tip, and Oikawa makes a soft, pleased groan. 

He keeps going, wanting to hear it again, thinking maybe this will be good for tonight – this is all they'll do, and he'd be more than happy with it, especially when Oikawa's breath hitches and he rolls his hips up, wanting. 

"Hajime," he moans. 

Iwaizumi nearly growls, working his hand faster, kissing Oikawa again, rougher than before, loving the feel of Oikawa struggling to keep up, panting against his mouth. 

"Wa- wait – stop – "

Iwaizumi stops, immediately and waits, freezing all over. 

"No, not – " Oikawa moans, rocking his hips up against into Iwaizumi's still hand. "I just – we've been waiting a _long time_."

"Yeah."

"I don't want to come like this." He's almost pouting. 

Iwaizumi almost releases Oikawa's dick completely, making his touch a light, faint tease. "How do you want to come, Tooru?"

"I want Hajime," Oikawa says, slowly. "To fuck me."

Iwaizumi feels beneath, the wetness that's been building, that spreads easily against his fingers, against Oikawa's hole, which twitches at the sensation at the same time Oikawa bites his lip.

"Here?" he asks, the tip of his finger sliding in. "In this pretty hole?"

"Fuck," Oikawa laughs in surprise, chest bouncing, "Yeah. There. In there."

It's tight, flexing uncertainly as Iwaizumi presses his second finger against it, but the slick eases the way, and he pushes in. Oikawa's hips do a little squirming movement, biting on his lip as he adjusts to the feeling.

"It's different," he says.

Iwaizumi inhales sharply at the sudden mental image. "From yourself?"

"Mmmm – " Oikawa's face is scrunched up, his legs bending a bit to help brace against the bed, help move his body in a more helpful way, up and then down against Iwaizumi's fingers. "No, the – the one in the train. They did – this." 

Iwaizumi freezes again, watching Oikawa's hips continue to move, testing out the sensation. 

"I thought – I don't know," Oikawa huffs a little. "It would feel like them again. But it feels different. It's good. I'm glad." 

Iwaizumi lets him go, watches him move, watches his body arch, and thinks that he should add another finger, or – trying to keep stretching him, or jerk him off, or something, but he's still frozen.

"Are you sure?" Iwaizumi finally asks. He wasn't expecting it to sound as shaky as it does.

Oikawa stops, and that's when Iwaizumi notices he's worked up a sweat, breathing a little harder. He sits up, pulling his ass out of reach before scooting forward. He puts his hands on either side of Iwaizumi's face, bringing him in close, forehead to forehead, and Iwaizumi recognizes the position, just an hour or so ago.

"I am very," Oikawa says. "Very sure. Are you sure?"

Iwaizumi swallows, suddenly nervous, remembering how completely he fell for Oikawa's act earlier. "Uh."

"Hajime," Oikawa says, apparently just to say it. He kisses along Iwaizumi's jaw, down his neck. He sighs it again, "Hajime... I missed smelling you."

"I missed that, too," Iwaizumi says, clearing his throat.

"And I only want your fingers in my asshole," Oikawa says, expression utterly serious, running his thumb along the apple of Iwaizumi's cheek. "I'll wait as long as it takes for you to stick them up there again."

Iwaizumi blinks at him. He snorts despite himself, dropping his head onto Oikawa's shoulder. "Just be honest with me, alright? If – it's weird. I need to know."

Oikawa gives a short little salute. "Yes, sir."

This time when Oikawa lays back again, he shifts a bit, lifting one leg up over onto Iwaizumi's shoulder, and it opens him up in a brand new, tantalizing way, distracting somewhat from the awkward moment. Iwaizumi slides his fingers back in, paying closer attention to Oikawa's reactions, the way he bites down on his lip, the way the muscles on his stomach tense, as Iwaizumi's fingers churn at Oikawa's insides, searching… wanting to see.. 

" _Iwa-chan!_ " Oikawa gasps in surprise, toes curling, and Iwaizumi could almost laugh, because he definitely did not plan to say that, and of course by now it's just habit to call Iwaizumi that ridiculous nickname. 

"Good?" Iwaizumi asks, pushing his fingers on that spot at a nice, easy pace, and Oikawa's strong thighs, the one still over his shoulder, tense, then release, tense, and release, in time with his fingers.

"Yeah, right there," Oikawa sighs. "I want – I want you to touch it with your dick."

Iwaizumi actually whines at that, hips jerking forward, but he keeps stretching, adding a third finger, rubbing that spot, until Oikawa's toes are curling, until his slick hole is overworked and sensitive to the touch, and Oikawa is squirming, kicking his heel into Iwaizumi's back. 

"Now, now, come on – now, " he's chanting, frustrated and wanting. 

Iwaizumi promised to spoil him, so pulls his fingers out, rubbing at the surface of it as he moves back up, kissing at Oikawa's cheeks.

"Now?"

"Fuck you," Oikawa says, impatiently wrapping his other leg around his waist, pulling him in closer. 

"Okay, okay," Iwaizumi says, lining himself up, taking a moment to appreciate the moment, the way Oikawa's hole looks, his own dick, fat and ready, just outside of it. It's an unbelievable sight when he presses in, and it stretches for him, wide, and wet, and pink, slick as hell, and Oikawa's shaky moan as he sinks is almost enough to make him lightheaded.

"Oh my god," he gasps, a shudder traveling up his back at just how warm and tight Oikawa is, better than – better than anything, he thinks, dazed, leaning down for a sloppy, lewd kiss, filling Oikawa on both ends. 

"Hajime," Oikawa whines when Iwaizumi lifts himself upright, adjusting his position, pushing deeper inside. "You're fucking huge." 

"You're going to kill me," Iwaizumi gasps, tilting his head back as he tries to hold himself steady, moving his hips in slow, shallow thrusts, gaining centimeter by centimeter inside Oikawa, with the goal of filling him, completely, with his cock. 

"Ah – ah – ah – " Oikawa pants out, quietly, in time with each thrust in. 

This sound sets Iwaizumi's pace, the speed of his thrusts, eventually encouraging it faster, and faster, until Oikawa is not just panting but crying out, nonsense and attempts at Iwaizumi's name – "Aah- Ah! Iwa-ch – fuc – please, g- god – Haj- Hajime – "

"Good?"

"S'good!" Oikawa sobs out quickly, nodding. 

"You look good, Tooru," Iwaizumi says, feeling oddly calm as he says it, watching the pink on Oikawa's face and neck, the glassy slits of his eyes. "You sound good, too – god, you're really good at this."

Oikawa just nods along, probably not listening, and Iwaizumi listens to what his body is clearly asking for: Fucking him harder, lifting his hips, grinding his dick in, listening to the way the pleasure of it, of Iwaizumi fucking him, is enough to make Oikawa wail. 

"Y-you were made for this."

"Yeah," Oikawa agrees, moaning. "For you, yes. Ha- Hajime – "

"What?"

"Are- are you gonna knot?" he asks this innocently, apparently. If he hadn't, Iwaizumi probably would've. But he's stunned by the question, the idea, Oikawa saying the lewdest thing he's said all night – and he becomes a thing of wild, driven movement, thrusting into Oikawa harder than ever, holding him against the bed as he does, hips snapping when he comes like he's proving a point, unloading deep, deep inside of Oikawa, hips continuing to grind in the aftermath. 

"Fuck," he gasps as he comes back to reality, trying to orient himself – Oikawa's cries ringing in his ears, and he's relieved to see Oikawa milking his own dick, Iwaizumi's loss of control having at least done enough to get him off. 

"Ssshi – shit," Oikawa suddenly gasps, arching against the bed and clinging to Iwaizumi's shoulders with both hands. He sounds genuinely distressed, eyes wide in what looks like fear.

Iwaizumi stops breathing, freezing over, waiting to hear – that was too much, it was too rough, it broke something – 

Oikawa's gasping for air, still, focusing hard on the ceiling. "Tobio."

"What?"

"He – he's awake," Oikawa says.

"So? What does that mean?"

"Fuck," Oikawa says, reaching for his pile of clothes, grabbing his phone from his jean pocket. 

A second later he's up, walking over to the bathroom, and Iwaizumi drops to the bed, embarrassed at his performance, but it's distant. Right now he just wants to be close, to kiss lazily and pet down Oikawa's body. It's a nearly physical ache. He wants to hold Oikawa, wants to smell him as he is now, properly fucked, wants to touch his body and the undeniable evidence of what they just did. 

This urgent need is probably the main reason it takes so long for Iwaizumi to remember – Kageyama can feel what Oikawa is feeling. 

The embarrassment stops him short, and he looks at Oikawa for answers when he comes back to bed, but he gives none.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"I'm not sure," Oikawa says. 

"Is he – "

Oikawa raises an eyebrow, not rescuing Iwaizumi, waiting for him to finish the question on his own. Is he embarrassed? Is he angry? The questions feel stupid, but he honestly cannot begin to guess what Kageyama's reaction to this could possibly be.

"Is he okay?" Iwaizumi finally asks.

"I don't know," he says. He doesn't seem to want to talk about it any more than that, but slides easily back into bed, into Iwaizumi's arms, where he was before, like he hadn't even left. They fit together easily. Perfectly. It pleases a part of Iwaizumi deep, deep in his mind, a rumbling sort of instinct that doesn't even have words. _Mate, here_ , would be about it. It is pleased, and Iwaizumi is exhausted. 

He falls asleep like this, only to wake up a few hours later to find Oikawa, sitting up in bed. It's dark enough that all Iwaizumi can see is Oikawa's face, looking down at the cellphone screen, expression unreadable.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be longer!! but it was also supposed to be posted many days ago!! I don't actually feel that bad about it though because my car broke down on Monday and my bathroom fan started raining ants on Friday, SO i feel like I did pretty good. 
> 
> This chapter starts out with Kageyama and his mom, and then Kageyama and Karasuno, and then some Kageyama and Oikawa stuff.

Kageyama's heats are regular, and easy. 

They last a week, and the worst of it is always the first day. He's never had to stay home from school or practice or skip workouts or anything else, so even though he's unused to the intensity sloshing around his gut when he rolls out of bed, it doesn't occur to him to do anything about it. He shakes it off, and stretches for his regular jog in the familiar morning light of his bedroom. 

It's only when he gets to his front door and looks out into the dark, quiet street that he remembers this isn't his usual heat.

His hand clenches around the door knob, and he frowns stubbornly. 

He's not stuck in a room anymore. He's not tethered to Oikawa. 

He can jog.

He pushes forward, down the steps of his home, to the street. 

The lazy days stuck in a hospital are there in the muscles of his calves and thighs, and the ache as they wake back up is satisfying, a burn he's missed. He's vicious as he starts chasing it, pushing harder with each complaint from his groggy and confused legs. 

When it's time to make the choice between a straight, easy jog down a flat street, Kageyama turns left instead, up a viciously tall hill. 

At this incline it doesn't take long before he's breathing hard, huffing, and he pushes harder, faster, ruthless. 

Usually, when he jogs, he thinks about past games, and how they could've been improved. Sometimes arguments, or something that annoyed him, or something he regrets.

Today, he thinks about bonds.

He thinks about severing bonds.

It's not easy, but the concept is simple. Either mate can do it, they don't even have to talk about it. Kageyama's mother and father did, though, and his mother bought what they used at a pharmacy down the street: a flare stick. On the package it says for lighting bonfires and cigars or flagging down cars, but everyone knows how they're actually used. 

For an alpha it only hurts as much as the deep burn as the mark is scorched off, but like basically everything, it's harder for omegas. People compare it to cutting off a leg or an arm, or removing an organ. Something that bumps, steady and constant, through the body, altering it permanently. Kageyama didn't understand it before, but he does now, because he feels it inside of him, _there_. If something heavy was about to fall on his foot, he would jerk it to safety instinctively, and if anything was to threaten his bond, he would cover his mark, because it's a part of him. How he personally feels about it doesn't matter, or even if it's causing him pain.

Kageyama runs faster, harder up the hill, his chest heaving. He can't keep this speed up for long, his legs are already starting to shake, and he has so much further he wants to run, but he can't calm down enough to slow down.

He remembers how it felt, last night. 

Being. Alone. Left alone. 

He knew better than to say it out loud, to anyone, ever, but Kageyama never really understood why his father did what he did. But after last night…

He reaches the top of the hill, and stumbles, nearly falls. He has to stop, leaning against a post as he gasps for air, his heart going rapid and frantic in his chest.

After last night, it makes sense. Because he was connected to Oikawa. And then he wasn't.

The connection to Oikawa is there – Oikawa is asleep and his presence is faint in Kageyama's mind. Right now it isn't bad. It's only after feeling... what Oikawa made him feel last night.. 

Kageyama shakes his head. If he had never _felt that_ , then he wouldn't feel bad. 

It's going to happen again, because Oikawa and Iwaizumi love each other, and they want to be close together. Kageyama can't imagine another night of that. A week. A month, and another month, and another month, over and over, every day, until a year is over – his mind flooded with happiness and warmth and love that doesn't belong to him, at all, and will be taken away as soon as Oikawa decides to shut it off.

Kageyama's throat is painfully dry from gasping. He didn't bring a water bottle, but there are fountains outside of stores, a few blocks away. He glances up.

The pharmacy is a few blocks away, too. 

He remembers, when he was younger, after his father did what he did, glaring at the flare sticks on the shelf, wishing they were locked away. 

But they're not, and he could go get one. 

He waits until his heart has calmed to a slower rate, then starts jogging again. 

The pharmacy is quiet and empty when Kageyama gets there. There's a cashier reading a newspaper behind the counter, and they give a bored, barely awake _Morning!_ when the doors chime.

The flare sticks are toward the back, with the condoms and pregnancy tests and other embarrassing things. Kageyama walks toward it all slowly, but seeing the overwhelming rows of the whole area is all it takes for him to lose his nerve. He mills around the back of the store trying to regain his courage, sweating, grabbing a bottle of water to make his presence a little less ridiculous. After a handful of minutes, the cashier starts growing suspicious, Kageyama can see them looking over the edge of the paper, peering around the shelves to see if Kageyama is shoplifting. 

Kageyama holds his breath, stomps over to the shameful shelf, grabs the first flare stick he sees, and up to the front of the store. 

The cashier's eyebrows fly up on their forehead when Kageyama slams the water and the stick on the counter. 

"Find what you were looking for?" They ask, picking the flare stick up, looking at Kageyama a vaguely amused expression. 

"Yes."

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen," Kageyama says.

"Okay," the cashier doesn't believe this, laughing, setting the stick down. "They give you that?"

"What?"

"Your mate. They give you that black eye?"

Kageyama frowns, tucking his chin toward his chest.

"Seriously, kid. That bond mark is still fresh. Everyone has bad days. Give it some time," they say. Kageyama grimaces, physically repelled at the idea of listening to a lecture from this stranger. He wants to just leave, but his hands twitch – he's not going anywhere without the stick. "There were times I regretted my bond, too," the cashier says, ringing up the water bottle. "But I stuck with it, and – "

It's impulsive, it's something he wouldn't have done on any other day, but in the moment, he literally can't come up with any other option. 

Kageyama grabs the stick and runs.

He keeps running, fear and panic pushing him faster that he has all morning, and by the time he realizes he's not being followed, he's almost to his own neighborhood. 

Slowing to a walk, Kageyama stares at the flare stick in his hand.

Would it be cruel… ? 

No. Oikawa has Iwaizumi. He'll be fine. And maybe it will be hard for Kageyama, but he knows what happened last night was worse. It was the worst thing he'd felt since this started, even puking over the side the hospital bed was better, because at least then he was too confused to know what was going on.

He flinches, distracted as he feels sweat sliding down his thigh. The sprint out of the store must have been harder on him than he expected. 

He reaches down to wipe it away absentmindedly, and is horrified to realize it – isn't – sweat. 

Pooling in his shorts, spreading between his thighs, is _slick_. Wet, disgusting slick, wet enough to make the fabric of his shorts sticky as it oozes through. 

Kageyama chokes on a disgusted gasp, wanting to wipe it off on his shirt, then instinctively not wanting it _on_ his shirt. Blind panic re-energizes him. He barrels home at full speed, tosses the flare stick on his desk, yanking off his clothes, before getting distracted by the steady blue light on his phone. There's a new text.

Standing naked in his bedroom, Kageyama looks down at the message, sent a few hours ago.

 **Oikawa** :  
call me when you wake up

 _No_ , is Kageyama's instinctive answer. No way. Separate from everything else, and feeling especially strong just now, is the embarrassment. How Oikawa's feelings – made him react, and how Oikawa had to've felt it. He doesn't even want to think about talking to Oikawa right now. He tosses his phone back onto the bed, and hurries to washroom.

The slick keeps coming, even under the spray of the shower, more than he's ever had before. _Disgusting_ , he winces. Finally clean again, he grabs his usual protection, three of them, and uses them all at once, hoping it will be enough. The thickness between his legs is uncomfortable and makes him feel pathetic as he lays down in bed, curling in on himself. 

The flare stick sits on his desk, across the room, still in the packaging. 

He stares at it, suddenly unsure. _Would_ it be cruel? The question comes again. The same answer is there: Of course not. Oikawa has Iwaizumi. The answer isn't satisfying this time. Maybe it's an excuse. Maybe he's just afraid. 

Kageyama hugs his own middle tightly. He shifts backward, the way he did when he was laying with Oikawa in the hospital, hunting out his warmth. 

It isn't there. 

Kageyama grits his teeth, angry at himself for looking. 

He hugs a pillow instead, mashing his face down into it. He doesn't feel tired, he feels like a piano with all the keys jammed down at once, screeching, awful, and exhausting. 

Karasuno's first bell rings in an hour, and he wanted to go, but after this tiresome morning, it's a relief to just give up for a moment.

~

"Left!!"

Kageyama tosses left, Tanaka spikes.

It's a clean, solid hit, and it easily clears the net, because there are no blockers on the other side.

The ball doesn't hit the ground. 

Kageyama swallows, silently nervous about whatever prevented the ball from touching down.

It's lurking on the other side of the net, whatever it is, more dangerous than blockers could ever be. Kageyama can't see it, and doesn't want to, doesn't want to know what it is or why it's there, he just wants it _gone_. He knows it's bad, something very dangerous, and Kageyama can't let it touch him. 

But he also knows as long as the net is there, he's safe. As long as he keeps tossing to his team.

"Center!!" Hinata yells, and Kageyama sends the ball his way. The timing is perfect, Hinata smashes the ball, and this time Kageyama watches as it disappears into the blackness on the other side of the net, swallowed whole. Silent.

The sight is unsettling, and Kageyama wants to step away, step back from the net, from the darkness, but this is where the setter is supposed to stand. He's safe, he reminds himself, as long as the net is there. As long as he can toss, he's sure that his spikers will hit hard enough to push the threatening darkness back. He can trust his team, they're strong, they won't give up, as long as he keeps tossing, they'll keep hitting.

"Tanaka!" Kageyama says, and tosses – but it's too fast. It flies past Tanaka's outstretched hand, and then suddenly Tanaka's annoyed, frustrated face is Kindaichi's. 

He lands awkwardly, and glares at Kageyama.

Kageyama can't speak, staring in open mouthed shock at Kindaichi, who will certainly leave, now, and Kageyama glances quickly between him and the other side of the net, desperate – _sorry, sorry, please – stop – don't go_ – 

But he does, Kindaichi walks off the court, out of sight, and Kageyama can feel that dangerous, unnamed thing grow stronger.

"Bring it to me!!" 

_Hinata._ Relieved, Kageyama tosses toward the sound of Hinata's voice, but the ball is not hit by a spiker's hand. He looks over his shoulder. Hinata is gone. 

Kageyama is alone on the court, and the darkness is getting closer.

The net vanishes.

Kageyama's eyes go wide in fear, he quickly steps back, tries to escape, but he's not nearly fast enough – the darkness rushes up on him, and he's grabbed, cruelly, large hands slamming him to the ground, holding him there. _No, no_ , he knows this feeling – this ground isn't the smooth polish of a court, but the filthy, textured aisle of a train. " _No_ ," but the hands yank at his hair, press between his legs, slide under his clothes. 

He stares up at nothing, helplessly, hopelessly stuck. He can't kick, he can't fight, he can't move, humiliation and fear make him cry out, but there's no noise, only a desperate mantra in his mind – _stop, stop, stop_ – "Stop!" he manages to shout. 

The hands still and Kageyama goes cold with new, deeper fear – that was a mistake, he shouldn't have done that – shouldn't have fought – he tries to shield his face but can only manage to hitch up his shoulders, closing his eyes tightly to brace himself for the hit – 

~

Kageyama wakes abruptly, eyes snapping open. 

He's shaking now, muscles stiff, pillow cold from sweat. He stares at his blankets, his pillow, the familiar wall of his room. He doesn't process any of it, his mind still reeling with fear. 

It takes another moment for him to make sense of where he is, what's going on, what happened. He finally catches his breath, and the sharp sob shakes his chest is a surprise. He tries to ignore it, but another one comes, just as violent.

Pushing his face back into the pillow, the sobs come faster, and Kageyama digs his nails into his his arms out of pure frustration. His tears are mostly silent, a few desperate gasps but even those are muffled into his bedding. 

He doesn't know how long it takes for him to stop crying, but when it happens he just lies in bed, staring forward at nothing, feeling spent, empty and awful. 

Suddenly, his phone jumps to life. It's a call, but Kageyama doesn't move. He just watches it shake, until it stops.

He still feels exhausted, but doesn't fall asleep again, and doesn't really want to, wary of his own mind's ability to attack him. After his final tournament in junior high he had bad dreams, sort of like that, where his tosses were the only thing keeping something bad away, and Kindaichi refused to help. He always woke up before anything really bad happened, though.

A sob jerks through his body again, and he bites down on his hand to keep it quiet. He's fine now. He's home now. It was just a stupid nightmare, and a stupid memory.

" _Tobio?_ "

A heavy thunk, then the front door slamming shut. Kageyama sits up. 

"Mom?" he asks, voice shaking. 

She's already up the stairs and knocking on his bedroom door – she stopped entering his room freely after he had his first heat – before he even steps off the bed. 

"Are you in there? Tobio?"

Kageyama stumbles to his feet, opens the door and is immediately grabbed, pulled into a tight hug. 

Kageyama grew taller than his mother when he was twelve, and taller than his sister just last year. He started wanting his own personal space sometime in-between, and it's been a while since his mother has held him like this. 

It's exactly as he remembers, though, it's strong and safe and makes him bite his lip, closing his eyes tight as he hugs back, resting his head against hers. 

"Sorry, I only just landed. What time did you get home? Did I wake you up?" she's saying, her hand petting down the back of his head. "How are you? Let's see – "

She steps back to get a look at his neck, expression growing a bit blank when she sees his mark. Then she looks up at his face, and touches just below his healing eye

"Tobio," she says. "Are you crying?"

Kageyama frowns and mutters, "Nightmare."

Her expression hardens, growing more angry than sad, now. "Well," she says, firmly, yanking him into another hug. "You're home, at least."

It's only when she heads down to the kitchen and Kageyama starts to change, that he realizes it's actually late afternoon. Oikawa is awake, feeling steadily irritated, but nothing intense, and is easily ignored. 

Kageyama gets dressed, then takes a moment to check his bed – the slick was stopped, nothing was ruined, not the sheets or his shorts. Good. He'll just do this from now on, then, use more than one pad. Problem solved. He won't even have to tell his mother about this new embarrassing thing. This puts him in a bit of a better mood as he joins his mother in the kitchen. 

"I just have one more thing to do in the office," his mother is saying, hurrying from the cabinet to the stove. "Then I have the next week off. I just stopped by because – well, because. Obviously."

"I want to go to Karasuno," he says. 

She looks at him from over her shoulder, eyebrow raised in disbelief. Then closes her eyes, turning back to the fish on the pan. "Practice only. That's all you're actually interested in, anyway."

Kageyama nods, quickly. 

"And don't stay the entire time." 

Kageyama nods again, "Yes."

"I'll be home at seven, I expect you to be here then, too. Ask one of them to walk you home."

Kageyama glares. "I can walk by myself."

She looks over her shoulder, expression severe. Kageyama winces, knowing that was pushing it. He should be grateful she's even considering letting him leave on his own right now, that she let him leave the hospital at all. His mother has always had strict rules for Kageyama – curfews and calls that his sister was never bothered with. He's still not allowed in the southern districts after eight at night, but he's been allowed to walk to and from school for years. If all this makes her go back to her old rules – it'll be _unfair_. He didn't do anything _wrong_.

"We talked about this before, Tobio," she finally says. "I know you _can_ , but I also know what _alphas_ – " She shakes her head. "How are we having this conversation after what just happened?"

Kageyama stops arguing, and eats when she puts a plate in front of him. 

"I know how much your team means to you," she says. "And I want you to see them – I'll be surprised if that Iwaizumi boy doesn't insist on walking you back."

Kageyama pauses, spoon half way in his mouth. "Iwaizumi?"

"Your vice captain? He was extremely – " his mother looks off to the side, looking for a polite word. "Worked up about you at the hospital."

"About Oikawa-san," Kageyama corrects.

"His name didn't come up," she says, obviously annoyed at the memory. "But he definitely threw his weight around when came to you." She waves her hand dismissively, misreading Kageyama's expression. "But we were all worked up." 

"Oh," Kageyama says, and starts cleaning his plate, shoveling food into his mouth as quickly as possible. He remembers last night, the thoughts that tipped him over the edge and left his skin tingling, and can tell his face is slowly turning red.

"Anyway." His mother kisses the top of his head, then grabs some toast and an energy drink, heading back to the door. "Be safe. I'll be back as soon as I can, text when you get to Karasuno. And when you leave. I'll text you once I leave the office, so – just. Be safe."

~

Nationals is less than a month away, but no one has to ask why Tsukishima suddenly stopped showing up for practices on Wednesday. 

"It's bad timing," Hinata says, pouting about it. 

"When would've been better?" Kageyama asks. "A month ago during the interhigh preliminaries? Or a month from now, during nationals?"

"Augh! Neither!!" Hinata says, frustrated. "But you better not get yours at nationals."

Kageyama rolls his eyes. As if Hinata would be able to tell. But it _is_ annoying that Tsukishima is missing out on a full week of training, and he's probably happy for the excuse to relax. 

That's a mean thought, though, and even Kageyama knows it. Tsukishima has the worst heats out of anyone he's ever met, and usually takes an entire week off when they hit. He's especially irritable when they start, and brittle and exhausted when they're over. 

"He just wants space," Yamaguchi will apologetically say when Tsukishima makes it back, standing between him and the rest of the team. 

He's extra testy about alphas, too, which can make practice with a team of seven of them a little difficult. 

It's only been three days, and it's a Saturday, a voluntary practice, so no one is expecting Tsukishima to walk through the doors of the gym. But, wearing sweatpants instead of shorts, looking pale and sour faced, but there. 

"Tsukishima!" Hinata says, and Kageyama grabs the back of his shirt before he can go bounding up to Tsukishima, possibly sending him right back out the door again. "Here to practice??"

Tsukishima gives such a withering glare that it makes Hinata wince a little, taking a step back. "Obviously." he says, politely leaving out the _idiot._

"Hey!!" Tanaka laughs when he catches sight of him, but it's not the teasing. Tanaka and Nishinoya will sometimes joke about Yamaguchi and Kageyama about their heats, but never Yachi or Tsukishima. "You're back early!"

Tsukishima mutters something about _nationals_ , then starts to stretch. Suddenly, he stops. Looks around the gym. Stiffly goes back to stretching. After Kageyama takes a look around himself, he remembers – Yamaguchi was unable to come to practice today, stuck at home with a visiting relative. 

It takes Tsukishima longer than usual to finish warming up, because without Yamaguchi there, each time the alphas in the gym shout or laugh or do anything particularly loud, Tsukishima freezes up for a moment or two, then has to relax again. 

Kageyama watches out the corner of his eye, waiting for him to grow frustrated enough to leave. But he doesn't, and eventually starts heading into the court. He hesitates again, but Kageyama already knows there are no good options. No Yamaguchi, and alphas are the majority in each cluster of teammates. 

"Tsukishima."

Tsukishima glares at Kageyama as he approaches. 

"There's. There's not enough room to practice receives in here," Kageyama mutters, awkwardly. He's awful at lying. "We should go to the girl's gym." 

Tsukishima glowers at him, unimpressed. "There's even more alphas in the girls team, idiot." 

Kageyama scowls, embarrassed for trying, ready to turn away. 

Tsukishima gives a very put upon sigh. "Where did you and Shrimpy practice at the start of the year? The park?"

"The baseball field."

" _Fine_ ," Tsukishima drags it out, heading for the door. "You coming?"

Grabbing a ball, Kageyama follows. 

~

The sight of Karasuno cheers Kageyama up, because the way the building looks at this particular time – the sun setting behind it, the classrooms mostly empty, the students out of uniform and on their way to club activities – all signs that it's finally time to step on a court. 

He gets some looks as he passes, but isn't sure if it's because of his eye, or his mark. It's not uncommon for third years to bond, but even then it's toward the end of the school year. A second year before winter break is weird enough that even Kageyama knows it.

"Hey – you!"

Kageyama stops, looking over. An alpha he doesn't recognize is staring. He's taller than average. Probably a third year. 

"Yeah?"

"You, uh. You're in the basketball club?" the alpha asks, awkwardly.

"No. Volleyball."

"Okay, right, yeah," the alpha says. Kageyama waits a bit, but the alpha doesn't say anything else, so Kageyama nods, and keeps going. _Weird_. The alpha keeps staring after him as he walks down the hallway, and Kageyama feels shadows of the fear from his nightmare earlier resting on the back of his neck – _something dangerous, a dangerous thing that will to hurt him –_ He walks faster.

"Kageyama?"

It's Tsukishima, standing ahead of him in the hall, gym bag over his shoulder. 

Kageyama stops. They both stare at each other, surprised.

"You weren't in class today," Tsukishima says, turning to face him properly. His expression is odd. It's not until he looks Kageyama up and down carefully that he realizes it's _concern_. Kageyama is already growing annoyed with the bruising on his face, the way it marks him as someone who was hurt. He bites back a defensive and ungrateful _I'm fine_.

"Yeah," he says instead. 

"Come on," Tsukishima says, jerking his head to the side as he turns around, going in the opposite direction of the gym. It's said with such boredom and so blandly, that Kageyama finds himself following without question, until they end up at the omega stalls at the end of the school. 

Tsukishima pulls out something wrapped in pastel plastic from his bag, and Kageyama recoils, "What??" 

The thing in his hand is a form of protection for omega in heat, a heavy duty version Kageyama's never used before. 

"You're in heat." 

Kageyama immediately spins around, looking over his shoulder, checking his pants, worried that this slick leaking through – 

"You're fine," Tsukishima says. "But if you're going to leave the house during a heat this heavy, you need something that will actually cover the scent." 

Kageyama grimaces at the protection Tsukishima is still holding out. He feels like Tsukishima is making fun of him, trying to start a fight, but – Tsukishima's expression is blank, impassive. 

Kageyama takes the package and looks it over. There are instructions, but to his further embarrassment, they're not clear enough for him to figure out. 

Tsukishima takes it back, opens it, making it more obvious before passing it back. "Here." 

"… Thanks." Kageyama knows his face is flaming red as he backs into the stall for privacy. 

"Your mom is an alpha?" 

Kageyama grunts yes. 

"Yamaguchi's the only omega in his family, too. He didn't know any of this either," Tsukishima says, like the whole subject bores him, crumpling up the wrapper. "Anyway. You're going to make a lot of idiots very happy when you show up to practice." 

It sounds like goodbye, so Kageyama is startled when he finds Tsukishima still waiting outside the door, now joined by Yamaguchi.

"Kageyama!" Yamaguchi moves forward like he's going to hug him, then stops. "You're coming to practice?"

Kageyama nods. 

Yamaguchi nods back, lips pinched on something he wants to say, before it bursts out anyway. "Good!" 

Yamaguchi is suddenly hugging him, and Kageyama stiffens, choking in surprise. Yamaguchi quickly backs off, apologizing. 

_What does he know?_ Kageyama wonders, his embarrassment rising. This reaction doesn't make sense unless Yamaguchi knows _everything_ , but Kageyama also knows, more than anything, that Sugawara wouldn't have told anyone what happened. He puts his trust in that. 

"Thanks," he says, awkwardly. 

"So, u-uhm," Yamaguchi says, trying to change the subject as they walk to the gym. "How was Tsukuba?" 

"It wasn't a sight-seeing trip," Tsukishima says. 

"Right, yeah," Yamaguchi laughs, sheepishly. "Did – ah. Did you watch the whole tournament in Osaka?" 

"Yes," Kageyama says, cheering up immediately. He knows Yamaguchi is mostly just trying to be polite, but Kageyama had forgotten about them, how much he wanted to talk about some of the moves with Hinata. "There were a lot of strong teams. Hopefully we'll play some of them at nationals." 

Yamaguchi is quiet for a beat, then laughs. "You're a beast, Kageyama." 

"Huh?" 

"Not many people would spend their first day out of the hospital already making plans for nationals," Tsukishima says, grabbing his sneakers before entering the gym. Kageyama pauses a moment before walking through the doors, an excited, eager tingle all the way down to his fingertips. He's missed this, and things have been so awful at times the past few days, it felt like he'd never be standing in this gym again. He inhales, breathing the familiar scents in - 

Azumane smells rich, like syrup and butterscotch. 

Kageyama's so used the scent lingering in Karasuno's gym that it's not until he sees Azumane in regular, street clothes, that he remembers Azumane shouldn't be there at all. 

It's a good surprise, though, and he's happy to see him, and happy for the distraction as he walks into the gym behind Tsukishima and Yamaguchi. 

"He's a family friend," Azumane is saying. He's holding a case of what looks like beer bottles. "They've been talking about it the last few years." 

" _They_?" Nishinoya repeats, annoyed. "You got yourself some elderly alpha fiance without even talking about it?!" 

"I meant _we_! Me, too," Azumane says weakly. 

"But it's for real? You're really getting married?" Hinata asks. 

"Mmhm," Azumane says. "In three months." 

Kageyama isn't totally surprised. Azumane's family is extremely traditional and even though, out of everyone he's seen in Karasuno, Azumane is the most physically suited for accomplishing something with volleyball in the future, he struggles with the right mentality. That could be fixed, but Azumane also has the least amount of interest in improving. Like Sugawara, it seems like Azumane's loyalty was to his Karasuno teammates first, and the sport itself second. It's a frustrating realization, but one Kageyama has been having about talented teammates since junior high, and has learned to let go. 

"But he's _old!!!_ " 

"Fifty-five isn't that – " 

"Asahi-san is just gonna be a nursemaid," Nishinoya says, looking sour about it, crossing his arms. 

Instead of wilting, like Kageyama is expecting, Azumane actually frowns. 

"Nishinoya." 

Nishinoya looks angrier for a second, then shrugs and lets it go. "Sorry." 

Kageyama glances between the two of them, but knows better than to ask. 

~ 

"Is Azumane-san your omega?" 

" _What?!_ " Nishinoya yelps so loud that Kageyama actually takes a step back in shock. 

"That's a good question, King. He did quit when Nishinoya quit," Tsukishima says. "And Nishinoya-senpai wouldn't play unless he joined again." 

Kageyama can tell that Tsukishima is mocking Nishinoya, but his own question had been genuine. He was obviously wrong, though, so he's not going to correct anyone. 

"That's – got nothing to do with anything!" Nishinoya says. "The omega I'll bond with one day will be an omega that can stand tall! A graceful beauty, and a powerful beacon –" 

"But Asahi-san is strong," Hinata says. "And powerful!" 

" _Despite_ himself," Nishinoya says, sniffing it out, unimpressed. He won't elaborate, and seems genuinely annoyed by the questions. Even Tsukishima, who loves to rattle people, seems unnerved by the sight, so he stops, and they go back to cleaning. 

~ 

"I'm actually.. his third... omega." 

"What?!" 

"What is he doing up there?? Just collecting omegas?!" 

"Ah, he has a lot of land. He farms. Oh," Azumane says, lifting up the case of beer. "He brews, too, I brought some as a gift for Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei – " 

"And your good friend Tanaka." 

Azumane smiles, but continues to keep it out of Tanaka's reach. "His omegas are getting older, too, but they don't have any kids to take over, so – " Azumane shrugs. "I'll probably be more of an apprentice than anything else." 

" _Oh!_ " Nishinoya says, suddenly sounding way happier about it. "Oh, that's good! Yeah! Farm your land! It's gonna be yours, right? After they die?" 

"Noya-san!!" Tanaka, of all people, says, smacking the back of his head. 

"So what should we call you?" Kageyama asks. 

"His family name is Nikko, but – Azumane is fine for now. Asahi, of course." 

Kageyama nods. 

There's a pause, and then a loud, collective shout. 

" _Kageyama!!!_ " 

Kageyama recoils at the noise, all of them shouting questions at once – 

"When did you get here?!" 

"Oh wow, look at that shiner!" 

"It's even worse than the picture – where's your eye patch?" 

"How are you?!" 

"You smell like the Grand King." 

"Wonder why, idiot." 

"Are you back in classes now?? I didn't see you all day!" 

"Are you gonna practice with us?" 

"Have you heard from the police yet??" 

" _Guys._ " 

Ennoshita puts an arm out, blocking the manic group from him, which Kageyama is grateful for. He answers the only question he can actually remember that doesn't make him grimace. 

"Yeah, I want to practice," he says. 

Hinata jumps, eyes blazing. "Aah, yeah!! Let's go!" 

"One second," Ennoshita says. "I actually wanted a chance to talk to Kageyama-kun." 

Kageyama tenses from his tone, but follows Ennoshita to the side of the court, where he actually looks uncertain of what to say next. Kageyama's only seen him like this a few times, and they've always been on the court itself. He's always been certain of himself otherwise, and it's unnerving. 

"Yeah?" 

Ennoshita sighs. "I'm sorry." 

"What?" 

"Your safety was partly my responsibility as captain," he says. "I let you down." 

"It wasn't – " 

"Please, Kageyama." 

Kageyama scowls, but nods, deciding this has more to do with Ennoshita than himself. 

Ennoshita takes a breath and looks him in the eye. Here is the familiar certainty. "I want you to know it's not going to happen again." 

Kageyama is annoyed. He doesn't like other people apologizing for this. If it happened again, Kageyama would fight again, and this time, he would win. He wouldn't get hurt again. Ennoshita apologizing means he thinks Kageyama is too weak to do it, it means he thinks Kageyama was never strong enough. 

But Ennoshita is an upperclassman, and the captain, so he's respectful. "Okay." 

Ukai arrives later than usual, and is surprised by Kageyama, then shakes his head. "I should've guessed this would be the first place you'd turn up, eh? Welcome back." Kageyama nods, happy with this, until he adds. "We'll talk after practice." 

They manage to talk Azumane into staying, and with him there, they have enough experiened players for a proper scrimmage. Kageyama sets for his side, the motions familiar and soothing, and it's satisfying to see the first years impressed with the former ace's spikes. 

By the time the game is over, Kageyama is starting to feel normal again. 

"Oh, Kageyama-kun," Yachi gasps when gathering up the water bottles. "It's so pretty…" 

"Eh?" 

"Your mark!" she says, and gets everyone's attention on him once again. 

"Ooh, yeah. It's pretty nice," Tanaka says. 

"I think that's called an egg shape," Nishinoya says. "It means your bond will be long lasting and fertile." 

"Fertile?" Hinata asks. 

"They'll have lots of kids." 

Both Kageyama and Hinata recoil so violently that Nishinoya laughs. 

"Hey, what's it like? With a bond?" 

"Yeah, can you tell when Oikawa is playing?" Hinata asks. "Is he playing right now? Is he serving??" 

"No!" Kageyama says. 

"No to which one??" 

"All of it!" Kageyama says. Oikawa's irritation and worry is still a murky sort of fog in his mind, unpleasant but something he can ignore. He doesn't know what could cause such a steadily miserable day, but he's sure it doesn't involve playing volleyball. 

"They were just questions, Bakayama!" 

"They were dumb questions, dumb ass." 

Some first years are making a game of gathering the balls, tossing them toward the cart. Most of them miss, but with Azumane and Kageyama here it hasn't really felt like a structured practice anyway, and no one is paying much attention to their mess, or the fight between Kageyama and Hinata. 

He's shouting Hinata's name, when a ball flies wild, heading toward the pile of gym bags and jackets, knocking over Azumane's case of beer. 

The bottles shatter. 

~ 

Hand in his hair. Yanking his head upright, trapping him, fear throbbing through him like a wound, crushing and intense. 

Two alphas stand above him, taller and stronger, holding him in place, and the sharp edges of a broken bottle centimeters from his face. 

They're telling him to open his mouth, they want to stick something disgusting inside him, something humiliating, and Kageyama's lips pinch together, shaking, terrified to open. The bottle moves even closer, threatening to plunge into his eye – _no –_

Suddenly, he _can_ move, and he does, desperately, pushing the body close to him away, shoving the one behind him back, and when someone tries to approach again, he pushes again harder, _keep away!_

"Kageyama – " 

" _Tobio_ , it's okay – " 

Arms loop around his from behind, and he's lifted from his feet. He's panting, shaking, and as his vision clears he makes sense of the scene. 

The team is standing around him, horrified, and on the ground, in the puddle of spilled beer, Hinata is holding his own wrist, blood dripping down his arm from a nasty cut on his palm. Kageyama obviously shoved Hinata back, into the broken glass, but Hinata doesn't look angry, he still looks worried, and is scrambling up again, trying to approach. 

"Kageyama-kun," he says. "Kageyama – " 

"S-sorry," Kageyama stutters out, but he can't say much more than that, stumbling so badly when Azumane releases him that he immediately reaches out again to steady him. There's tears on his face, again, that he wipes away quickly. 

"Is that _blood?!_ " 

They all turn – the vice principal is standing in the doorway, looking scandalized. "Is that – _alcohol?!!_ " 

"It's nothing, sir!" 

"It's just – " 

"He fell!" 

"I fell!" Hinata parrots, quickly. 

"It won't do to lie, I saw the whole thing!!" the vice principal says. "I came to welcome our nationally ranked setter back to school. But I see we may have some issues that need to be addressed!" 

_What?_ Kageyama can't make sense of any of that, head spinning. 

"Please come with me, Ennoshita. Ukai." 

The rest of the team continues cleaning up for the day, subdued, while Yachi takes Hinata to get his palm cleaned and wrapped. Kageyama is glad about this, because at the moment, he feels too guilty and stupid to be around him. 

That was like a nightmare, except he was fully awake. And like a nightmare, the feelings were even more extreme than reality, and just remembering it makes his eyes start to sting from fear alone. 

Kageyama leans against the wall, slowly sliding down. 

"How much – " Kageyama clears his throat. "How much does everyone know?" 

Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are the only ones close enough to hear, and they glance at once another. 

"… No one _knows_ anything," Tsukishima says. 

"Tanaka and Hinata were really mad when they left," Yamaguchi says. "But when they came back it was like – they were deflated. So. I donno, whenever you hear about alphas attacking omegas, and you just. Hope it didn't happen, but you think – maybe it did… " 

Yamaguchi doesn't try to hug him again, but he kneels down, scooting closer, and puts his hand on Kageyama's back. This is fine, because Tsukishima is standing in front of them, blocking him from view, and Kageyama can also press his face into his knees without anyone really noticing. 

~ 

"Kageyama," Ukai says, poking his head into the gym. He waves for Kageyama to join him outside, even though by now there's barely anyone left, a few first years carrying the poles and mops back into storage. 

Kageyama moves slowly, dreading whatever it is they discussed. 

"So, how to put this," Ukai says, hands on his hips, frowning as Kageyama walks down the steps. "Unfortunately, the vice principal decided to ban you from club activities for the next two weeks." 

"Wai – what?" 

"I disagreed, but." Ukai shakes his head. "He's dead-set on this 'alpha-shy' thing." 

The term obviously means nothing to Ukai. Ukai's family is almost all alphas, and he's only ever played with alphas and a few betas. When he was in school, Karasuno hadn't even started admitting omegas as students yet. Out of all Kageyama's coaches, Ukai has been the most clueless about omegas, but he's also been the most unassuming. 

"So I don't know about that," Ukai goes on. "But I think it's a good idea to respect this like any other injury. You know? If you walked on a sprained ankle too early, what would happen?" 

"You- you'd make it worse," Kageyama mumbles. 

"Exactly. And pushing yourself this early could make it worse too, I think," Ukai says. 

"Pushing?" Kageyama asks. It's not pushing to play volleyball with his team. It's what he _wants_ to do. It'd be pushing if he was kept away from the court. 

"Mm, trying to act like everything's okay," Ukai says. "There's a lot of healing going on in here right now," Ukai says, tapping his own temple. "You should let it happen." 

"I can heal and practice at the same time!" 

"I kind of figured you'd say that," Ukai says, with short laugh. "Like I said, the vice principal's not changing his mind, but – the thing I wanted to discuss with you after practice isn't all that different. Suspension is uncalled for, of course. But this team is kind of a tornado. Not the best place for you right now." 

"You think I should stop playing?" Kageyama asks, piecing together what his coach is saying, much slower, and feeling numb about it. 

"No," Ukai says. "My grandpa. He has a court he teaches some students at. You've been there, right?" 

"Yes." 

"If you're up for it, I'm thinking you could get some with him for next two weeks, where it's less likely – you know. What just happened would happen," Ukai says. "Maybe bring up some of the other guys for a few days, too, if they wanted. But frankly," he grins meanly. "The team could spend a while training without your tosses spoiling them." 

Kageyama nods, still feeling a little numb. 

"Kageyama," Ukai says, when Kageyama starts to turn away. "This isn't a punishment. Well. From me, it isn't. This is one of those make or break moments. I'm gonna try to make sure it's not a break. I'm expecting great things from you." 

_Make or break._ Kageyama repeats the English phrase in his head, liking the rhythm of it. He nods again, and starts heading to the gates, where Hinata is already waiting. 

He doesn't tell Hinata the news of his ban, still trying to swallow it down himself. He's silent as they walk, and he can tell Hinata wants to ask about what happened, but he doesn't, which is good. Kageyama can't talk about this with Hinata. 

He misses Oikawa. 

This is such an odd thought it surprises even himself. But Oikawa was there. Kageyama lost his composure when they were stuck together, but Oikawa had understood why each time. Kageyama never had to explain himself. Oikawa would've understood why he panicked like he did in the gym. 

Oikawa is smart, and he's been – nice? He made Kageyama feel better when he could, and he didn't make a big deal about it. He defended Kageyama's playing the counselor, as well, and the memory makes him feel warmer, especially after what just happened. He remembers the text on his phone, though, asking for Kageyama to call. He wonders if it's too late now, if Oikawa would just be short and annoyed with him for ignoring it until the afternoon… 

"So," Hinata says. "Did you get over your fear of the Grand King?" 

Kageyama grimaces as he remembers Oikawa's fond expression while holding his hand… 

"Not really." 

"Wha? But you're bonded," Hinata says. "Hey, what do you think it'd be like to play against him now?" 

Kageyama pauses. He hadn't thought about that. But he remembers how it felt to play that dots and lines game on the paper, how fun it had been, how they egged each other on. "Good," he says. "Really good." 

"We'll have to get into a good college to play against him though," Hinata sighs. 

Kageyama nods. Tsukuba University is a regular winner of the men's volleyball championships. To even play against Oikawa, Kageyama will have to get accepted into a college on equal footing. He's sure after making it to nationals that he'll have offers, but in junior high, he had been sure about going Aoba Johsai… But there's no point in trying to predict the future. "We'll have to keep playing our best." 

Hinata usually gets worked up and excited about statements like that, like a dog hearing the word _walk,_ so he's expecting something like, _Yeah!_ or even a shout. But Hinata is quiet, and when Kageyama looks over, he sees Hinata has stopped walking. He's blinking, staring forward. 

Kageyama follows his gaze, and nearly falls over his own feet in surprise. 

Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Are there, outside of the gate of his house, leaning against it, talking to each other. They haven't noticed Kageyama yet, and after what happened in the gym - Kageyama swallows and feels his eyes start to sting. He feels an overwhelming, desperate pull toward Oikawa, enough that his hands start to shake slightly in his pockets. It's overwhelming to the point that he almost thinks about running away. 

Oikawa suddenly looks up, spotting them. He grins sweetly, waving. 

"This is weird," Hinata says, quietly. 

Kageyama starts walking forward, grateful for Hinata's familiar, steady presence there with him. He had wanted to see Oikawa not a few minutes ago, but he's suddenly scared of what is going to happen when he gets there. He feels the need in his stomach starting to grow with each step he takes. 

"Tobio-chan," Oikawa says, sitting up straight when they get closer. "We need to talk." 

Kageyama clears his throat, forcing himself to calm back down, and nods. 

He unlocks the gate, holding it open for both of them to pass by, stiffening a little when Iwaizumi does. "Iwaizumi-san," he nods, and Iwaizumi nods back. He takes a closer look, remembering what his mother said about him being – worked up. But Iwaizumi looks like he usually does. 

"Uhm," Hinata says, dithering between following them inside, and continuing on, to his own home. 

"Whichever," Kageyama says, still holding the gate open. 

"Hrmm," Hinata says, gripping the handles on his bike, peering into the yard. "I wanna see your house." 

"That's what you're worried about?!" 

"Well!" Hinata says, then hurries inside before Kageyama can change his mind. He rolls his eyes and locks the gate behind them. 

"Here," Oikawa says once they get inside the house, dropping a package into Kageyama's hands. It's a gift, nicely wrapped, probably some milk cream biscuits from the smell. 

"Uh," Kageyama stares at it, lost. A formal – gift? A formal visit, so that means he should give them something to eat in return, but there's nothing really in the kitchen he could offer. It suddenly hits him that there are guests in his home – not children, and he's not a child. Whenever this has happened in the past, either his mother or sister welcomed them properly and entertained them, but now it's just him. He's the actual host. "Uhm – " 

"How about," Oikawa takes the gift from Kageyama, and gives it to Hinata instead. "These two eat down here, and we talk upstairs?" 

"Okay," Kageyama says, flustered again, looking over at Hinata and Iwaizumi. "Uh – " 

"We'll be comfortable down here, Kageyama," Iwaizumi says. 

"Okay," Kageyama says, and starts following Oikawa up to his bedroom, then jogs back down a few steps. "The bathroom is through there!" 

"Thanks, Kageyama!!" Hinata says, around three biscuits already in his mouth. 

Kageyama tsks at him in disgust, the hurries back up the stairs, where Oikawa is waiting at the top. His bedroom is at the end of a short hallway, and Oikawa looks around, curious, when they walk inside. 

"Your room isn't cute." 

Kageyama stares. He's not offended, it's not anything he ever wanted to be, but this is all too surreal for him to really get a grip on. Oikawa, in his room, looking over his shelves with lazy, impassive eyes. 

"So," Oikawa sighs, running his hand through his hair. "You've had an awful day, which is an accomplishment considering you were asleep for most of it." 

Kageyama nods shortly, feeling some of that awful emotion bubbling up now, and feels guilty for it. Oikawa has been a more or less polite guest in Kageyama's mind. Last night was terrible, but at least Kageyama was in bed, alone. He's not sure what Oikawa was doing when Kageyama had his nightmare, or during that episode in the gym, or the aftermath. His jaw wobbles slightly as he remembers. "Sorry," he mutters. 

"No, that - " Oikawa shakes his head, "That's my fault. So, uh. I think it's becoming obvious that the counselor from the hospital had a point. I was think – " 

Oikawa has frozen completely, staring down at Kageyama's desk. When he lifts up his hand, he's holding the flare stick Kageyama grabbed this morning, and had actually forgotten about. The reaction from Oikawa is like a cold wind of fear and anger blasting over Kageyama's mind. 

"What's this, Tobio-chan?" 

Kageyama lips pinch together tight, and he glares, unable to answer. Oikawa shakes his head, the initial reaction turning to _concern_ , which makes Kageyama glare harder. 

_"Why?_ You – _you're_ the one who was so upset about – " Oikawa shakes his head again. " _Why?_ " 

"Last night." 

Oikawa winces hard, and is more flustered and awkward than Kageyama's ever seen him, "That – I didn't mean to, I know, after what they did – " 

"What?" 

"They – what they did. On the train. They made you – come, and then last night. I – made you – come?" 

Kageyama can't react. He can't speak. He stares, feeling like Oikawa just reached into his stomach and ripped out all the organs there. He feels his breathing go wild in his chest - it feels like he's been pushed closer and closer to the edge of cliff all day, and he feels something important inside himself teeter dangerously. 

"No?" Oikawa asks. 

" _No!_ " Kageyama shouts, loudly, trying to cover the sob. 

Oikawa blinks, then throws his hands up. "Okay, so - you need to tell me what you're thinking, because last night you freaked out, wouldn't answer any texts, you've - you're - " Oikawa gestures at him. "I assumed it was because I basically just – raped you." 

"That – _no!_ " 

"Then what happened last night?? You felt it, right?" 

"You love Iwaizumi-san!" Kageyama shouts. "I felt it, and how – he loves you, too." His voice shakes, he can feel his face crumbling. Why did he want to be around Oikawa? Why did he want to do this weak thing freely? He can't stop it, he's crying, again, and maybe he'll always be this way now. Maybe he's as weak as everyone has been trying to tell him. "And – and then – " 

Oikawa takes a step forward, and Kageyama recoils violently, nearly hitting the wall. 

"I don't want to feel things that are just going to go away!" Kageyama finishes, quickly, before Oikawa can say something. "So – " he gestures toward the stick. 

"Okay," Oikawa nods, slowly, thinking this over as he licks his lower lip. Kageyama feels it like a tide coming in: once, weak, then a second, stronger wave. Concern. Kageyama glares in furious confusion. It's different from before. Last time it was – defensive? Scared, panicked. This is slower, but warmer and sincere. He wipes at his face, annoyed with the tears. A third wave, this one inescapable, submerging him completely in Oikawa'a presence, uncertain at first, then growing stronger the more Kageyama allows it, the calmer he grows. He doesn't realize how hard he's breathing, or the weight he was carrying from the stares in the gym, the memories of the nightmare, the doors to the gym being closed on him, until Oikawa's energy slowly eases it from him. He takes a shuddering breath in and almost wishes Oikawa would reach for him again. 

"Where's your friend?" Oikawa asks, calmly, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. "That – Sugawara-kun." 

"College." 

Oikawa nods. "Right," he says. "Well, I came out here because I don't think this is going to work." 

Kageyama nods. 

"But I think we can come up with a better solution than this," he says, waggling the flare stick between his fingers. 

Like _what?_ Kageyama thinks, hopeless, and now exhausted. There's no way Oikawa would be willing to stay apart from Iwaizumi for a year. Kageyama can't _get_ any further away, and he can't block Oikawa's feelings, he's tried. They're already in his mind, coloring all the edges of his thoughts. 

"I think – being apart like this isn't going to work right now." 

Kageyama is startled. "You want to get - closer?"

"Couldn't hurt to try." 

_Maybe something good will happen._ The thought pokes its head up again, proving Oikawa wrong, because this time it hurts more than ever – after last night, Kageyama knows better. He shoves the embarrassing thing down. "It's going to end in a year," Kageyama says. "And it'll be worse." 

"That could happen," Oikawa agrees, shrugging. "And I can't make any promises. I don't even really _know you_." 

Kageyama shakes his head. They've known each other for years. 

Oikawa rubs at his forehead, frustrated. "I didn't really know you in junior high. You were just an annoying, overconfident kohai that was really focused on volleyball. But there's more to you than that. I keep thinking I have you figured out and," he drops the flare stick back onto the desk. "You surprise me. I want to know – more." 

"More?" 

"I mean, this is selfish," Oikawa says, flustered. "I don't even know, exactly – what I want with you. From you." He frowns at Kageyama. "You could be right, in a year it could be way worse. But this clearly isn't working and. I don't want to give up on this just yet." 

Give up on this. _Give up on this_ , Oikawa keeps talking, but Kageyama is reeling. _On this._ They have a _this_? 

"I can't make any promises," Oikawa says again, sharply. 

If the affection that pulsed through the bond last night was a full, tight embrace, this is more of a questioning, loose hand resting on his own. There, if he wants to grip it. 

Oikawa's face is turning a little pink. 

Kageyama swallows, his heart doing that awkward sort of flop in his chest, and that thought that he keeps trying to shove down pops back up, stronger. _Maybe... something good…_

He grips it. 


End file.
